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JUNIUS DEALT THE ANIMAL A POWERFUL BLOW.'* Page 20. 







THE 


SILENT PRINCE 

0torj3 of tlje Jfdljerlanbo 


BY 



Mrs. HATTIE ARNOLD CLARK, 

« • 

AUTHOR OF “ PRO CHRISTO,” ” FATHER JEROME,” 

• ETC. 


“ For Fatherland and Conscience .” — Motto of William the Silent. 

“ His life was g^entle, and the elements 
So mixed in him that nature might stand up 
And say to all the world; This was a man .'" — Shakespeare. 




(, ' 



* 


AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 

150 Nassau Street, New York 


■ 48133 

Ij-ibrury of Conci^e«* 

r’W'w LoPiEb Heau£0 

SEP 17 1900 

CoiYHgM •ntry 

ScCONP COfV. 

OSOt« OtVISION, 

SEP 20 1900 


1 ® 


80G55 








T^ts little volume 
is dedicated to the memory of 
my beloved father, 

2)anlel 'QBlooDvvarD BrnolD, 

and to my mother. 


jfrances 3fas BrnolD, 

whose living presence has ever 
been a source of 
inspiration. 


Copyright, igoo, 

BY AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Introduction 5 

chapter 

I. The Deathbed of a Princess lo 

II. The Adventure ig 

III. The Huguenot Preacher 25 

IV. The Silent Prince 33 

V. A Singular Friends\iip 45 

VI. The Burgomaster’s Daughter 52 

VII. The Burgomaster’s Rebuff 64 

VIII. A House Divided Against Itself 71 

IX. A Game of Chess 76 

X. A Prince of the Church 83 

XI. An Unexpected Visitor go 

XII. In the Snare 95 

XIII. The Minstrel’s Message loi 

XIV. Making an Enemy 109 

XV. The Lady Abbess 113 

XVI. The Riot 120 

XVII. The Burgomaster’s Promise 127 

XVIII. What the Stars Saw at Oosterweel 135 

XIX. Hero or Coward ? 143 

XX. A Cancelled Debt 149 

XXL The Flame Scorches 160 

XXII. A Foretaste of Terror 167 

XXIII. A Grim Page of History 174 

XXIV. What the Morrow Brought 181 

XXV. Do^a Isidore 188 

XXVI. A Woman of Tact 196 

XXVII. A Watch in the Night 202 


3 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXVIII. A Life for a Life 208 

XXIX. Leaves from a Journal 213 

XXX. Pluming for Flight 219 

XXXI. “ Not AS to a Fleming, But as to a Traitor ” 227 

XXXII. The Fugitives 234 

XXXIII. Under Sentence of Death 241 

XXXIV. The Midnight Assassin 249 

XXXV. Shut In 256 

XXXVI. The Prince to the Rescue 264 

XXXVII. The Death of the Silent Prince 271 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


INTRODUCTION. 

It was Christmas morning in Brussels in the 
year of grace 1565. For twenty-four hours the 
snow had been steadily falling, but now the storm 
had ceased, and the stars shone clear and bright 
from the frosty sky. The streets of the capital were 
deserted, if we except a few belated travellers who 
were hurriedly seeking shelter from the piercing 
northwest wind. 

The festivities incident to Christmas Eve had 
ceased. The good people of Brussels were quietly 
sleeping with joyful anticipations of a brighter to- 
morrow. Well might the nation rejoice, and the 
denizens of the city peacefully repose. Had not a 
signal victory been gained? Was not the hated 
Cardinal Granvelle recalled to Madrid, and had not 
the Spanish troops been removed from the Nether- 
lands? 

Ten years had passed since the eyes of the world 
had been directed to that unique spectacle, which 

5 


6 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


custom had not rendered stale — an imperial abdi- 
cation. The crown which had begun to press too 
heavily upon the ambitious head of Charles the 
Fifth, emperor of Germany and king of Spain, 
was now formally laid aside and the sceptre was 
confided to younger hands. It was a rich and pow- 
erful kingdom which the abdication of Charles had 
placed in the hands of Philip the Second. The 
Netherlands comprised seventeen of the most 
flourishing provinces in Europe. For commercial 
pursuits, their situation in close proximity to the 
sea was unrivalled. The soil, which the industry 
and perseverance of the thrifty people had wrested 
from old ocean, was fertile and yielded rich har- 
vests. The Netherlanders themselves were an 
honest, peaceable folk, yet when aroused they were 
the most belligerent and excitable population on 
the continent. The reformed religion, which had 
been crushed in Spain by the Inquisition, had de- 
veloped in the Netherlands a kind of sacred pa- 
triotism, and freedom both of speech and of con- 
science was an established fact among all classes 
of society. The policy which had worked like 
magic in Spain, was a dismal failure in the Nether- 
lands. Spain might be lurid with the flames of the 
auto da fe, and one by one the gentle voices of 
her noble Protestant martyrs might be silenced; in 
the Netherlands the love of religious liberty had 
taken fast root, and neither Philip’s commands, the 


INTRODUCTION 


7 

pope’s threats, nor the grand inquisitor’s bloody 
deeds could stamp it out of existence. 

When the Emperor Charles entered the royal 
palace at Brussels, and leaning on the arm of Wil- 
liam of Orange, delivered his valedictory address 
in broken accents to the assembled throng, the 
people wept and applauded. They forgot, in that 
hour, that it was his hand which had planted the 
Inquisition in their midst. His faithful subjects 
remembered only that he was a Fleming, and that 
his preference for the language and customs of his 
native land, neither the imperial crown of Ger- 
many, nor the Spanish diadem which destiny had 
added to the coronet of his fatherland, could dimin- 
ish in the slightest degree. They readily took the 
oath of allegiance to support his son, and at the 
time they were sincere in their pledges of fealty. 

Ten years wrought many changes. Philip the 
Second was soon detested by the Netherlanders as 
much as his father was revered. These provinces, 
so passionate in their desire for civil and religious 
liberty, had become the property of an utter 
stranger — a prince foreign to their blood, their 
tongue, their religion; to one whose oft-repeated 
maxim was, “ Better not rule at all, than to rule 
over a nation of heretics.” 

Philip had entrusted the subjugation of the 
Netherlands to two persons, the Regent, Margaret 
of Parma, and Cardinal Granvelle. The Regent was 


8 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


but a puppet in the hands of the King and the am- 
bitious ecclesiastic. The people soon found that 
one by one their municipal privileges were with- 
drawn, their ancient charters annulled, religious 
persecution redoubled, and as a crowning insult, 
thousands of Spanish soldiers were quartered upon 
them in a time of peace. 

Cardinal Granvelle was personally responsible 
for many of these evils. His zeal for the crown, 
combined with his arrogance, provoked the wrath 
of the nobles. Even the Regent, wearied with dis- 
cord and strife, prayed for his dismissal. For five 
years Philip joined issue with the people of the 
Netherlands in a struggle of life and death. At 
last the nation. Catholics and Protestants alike, 
rose as one man and demanded the removal of 
Granvelle. Philip was compelled to discharge the 
hated prelate, and the latter left Brussels never to 
return. 

An exultant shout went up from the Nether- 
lands: ‘^Granvelle has gone! The victory is ours! 

A victory forsooth! yet one which was to be pur- 
chased only with the blood of eighty years of civil 
strife. 

The herald angels sang once more on this Christ- 
mas morning their hallelujah chorus: ‘‘ Glory to 
God in the highest; on earth peace, good will to 
men.'' Tears must have mingled with this hymn 
of praise, as they saw in the Netherlands “ Hu- 


INTRODUCTION 


9 


manity bleeding but not killed, standing at bay and 
defying her hunters/' 

But God’s deliverer was at hand. Out of the 
gloomy background there rose a figure, at first in- 
distinct, shadowy, but as the contest proceeded, be- 
coming clearly defined. It was the figure of a man, 
who in this bigoted age loved and exercised toler- 
ance in the affairs of conscience; a man, who to 
his latest breath contended that freedom of inquiry 
was an inalienable right of the human race; a man 
whose magnanimity and self-abnegation for the 
cause of freedom well deserved the double glory of 
exalted position and final martyrdom. 

This man was William of Orange, the Silent 
Prince. 


CHAPTER L 


THE DEATHBED OF A PRINCESS. 

Elizabeth Stuyvesant, widow of Duke Os- 
wald, Burgrave of Ghent, (likewise Prince of 
Aremburg and Count Van Horne,) lay dying. A 
great lady was she, princess, duchess and countess; 
yet death, that despotic tyrant, had dared to sum- 
mon her hence. In a gorgeous palace in Brussels, 
surrounded by all the pageant and ceremony which 
wealth affords, the soul of this titled lady was pass- 
ing to judgment. 

The Princess Elizabeth was a good woman as 
the world counts goodness. She was benevolent, 
just, a loyal adherent and a zealous partisan of the 
Roman Catholic Church, and upright in all her 
dealings with those about her; in a word, her moral 
character was considered unimpeachable. Her 
faith taught her that such virtues as those enumer- 
ated would count for much at that Higher Tri- 
bunal to which she was hastening. 

Strange as it may seem, these excellencies did 
not serve as a quietus for a troubled conscience. 

lO 


THE DEATHBED OF A PRINCESS ii 

In spite of her exemplary life, the mind of the illus- 
trious princess was ill at ease. 

The silver-toned clock on the mantel struck the 
hour of midnight. The bells in the tower of St. 
Gudule sounded forth the Annunciation chimes. 
The sick woman stirred uneasily, and opened her 
eyes. 

What o’clock is it, Gretchen? ” she inquired of 
the nurse. 

It is Christmas morning, gracious lady.” 

Has his reverence Monseigneur Ryder come? ” 

‘‘ No, my lady.” 

“ Pray, my good Gretchen, that he may not ar- 
rive too late to hear my confession.” 

“ Father Fleemskirk is here and desires to see 
you,” said the nurse hesitatingly. 

“ I shall talk with no one except Monseigneur 
Ryder,” said the Princess with emphasis. 

The hours sped by. The sick woman fell into a 
troubled slumber. Now and then her lips moved 
rapidly, and bending lower Gretchen caught these 
disjointed sentences: 

“ A prince of Aremburg, the Prince of Arem- 
burg a Protestant! My God, that such should be 
the truth! . . . No one robbed him of his rightful 
heritage. . . . He renounced it that he might follow 
his mad delusion. ... I did not disinherit him; his 
father did it. The blame is not mine . . . but it 
weighs heavily on my soul. I must try to make 


12 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


amends before I die . . . the time is getting short! ’’ 

The Princess opened her eyes. A gentle footfall 
was heard. The door opened noiselessly and a 
priest entered. He was tall, finely formed, with a 
refined face and clear-cut, pale features. His eyes 
were bright with the power of intellect. His voice, 
though low and well modulated, had yet in it a note 
of command, which rendered obedience absolute. 
He advanced quickly to the bedside, and making 
the sign of the cross said, “ In nomine Patris — et 
Filii — et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.’’ 

The saints be praised. Monseigneur Ryder, that 
you have arrived in season. I have a secret to im- 
part to you which presses heavily on my soul.” 

“ Make me a full 'onfeosion at once,” replied the 
priest fastening his compelling eyes on the ones so 
rapidly growing dim. “ Your hours are num- 
bered.” 

The nurse entered the room, and after adminis- 
tering a cordial, quietly withdrew. The Princess 
began in a weak voice: 

“Your reverence, I am called a good woman, 
yet for ten years I have aided and abetted a lie. It 
has been generally understood that my husband’s 
son died, and that in default of an heir these 
princely estates, at my decease, would revert to the 
Church. Such in fact were the conditions of Duke 
Oswald’s will. Father Ryder, the heir to all this 
property is living! ” 


THE DEATHBED OF A PRINCESS 13 


The priest started visibly. Do I understand 
you that Duke Oswald’s son is alive? ” 

“ He is, your reverence, but terrible to relate he 
is a Protestant.” 

A prince of Aremburg a heretic! What a dis- 
grace! ” said the priest. “ How did it happen? ” 

Francis had a tutor who unbeknown to us was 
a French Huguenot. He desired to travel with 
our son, assuring us that a polish and elegance of 
manner befitting our son’s rank could be obtained 
in no other way. Accordingly our son, in com- 
pany with this treacherous tutor, travelled for a 
year on the continent, finally returning as far as 
Switzerland. From Geneva, Francis wrote us that 
he had become a Huguenot. The blow fell upon 
us like lightning from a clear sky. Duke Oswald, 
in a towering rage, wrote immediately to his son, 
that unless he renounced these odious doctrines 
and returned to the Romish faith he would dis- 
inherit him. A prompt reply came from Francis, 
saying that while he regretted angering his father, 
he could not give up the Huguenot doctrines, for 
he believed them to be God’s truth. He further- 
more announced that he would not bring disgrace 
upon our noble house by longer bearing its hon- 
ored name: but that henceforth Francis Stuyve- 
sant was dead. ' Be it so! ’ said the Duke in a voice 
like thunder. ' My son is dead! ’ The Duke then 
informed his household and his friends that Fran- 


14 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


cis had died of a malignant fever and was buried 
abroad. We went into the deepest mourning and 
no one doubted our words. 

“ We heard nothing more from this ungrateful 
son until Duke Oswald lay upon his deathbed. 
Then a letter came from Francis begging his father 
to forgive him before he died. He wanted none of 
the princely fortune, but he desired a father’s bless- 
ing. His letter was dated at Borges and was signed 
Francis La Force. The Duke tore the letter into 
strips, and turned his face to the wall. He would 
not allow me to summon Francis or even to write 
to him. The next day he died without granting 
his son’s request. That was about ten years ago. 
Francis must now be in the neighborhood of 
twenty-five years of age, lovable, handsome, tal- 
ented! My God, that such rare gifts should be so 
squandered! 

“Your reverence, I have sent for Francis to 
come to me. I waited to consult with you before 
taking this important step, but as you delayed your 
coming, I acted as my heart dictated. I love the 
lad and I want to try to persuade him to return to 
the arms of the Church. Perhaps by this time he 
will be glad to cast aside his delusions. If he con- 
sents to renounce his Huguenot ideas, and will be- 
come a good Catholic, he shall inherit my private 
fortune, which will make him independently rich. 
If he fails to come, or refuses my request, this 


THE DEATHBED OF A PRINCESS 15 


money will go to charitable objects. I trust that I 
have not displeased your reverence.’' 

“ You have acted unwisely, my daughter, but in 
your present condition this is not surprising. Had 
I been with you, I should have counselled you dif- 
ferently. Your offence has been merely the result 
of physical weakness, and is therefore pardonable. 
If you will promise that you will not leave your for- 
tune to that heretic if he continues in wilful sin, I 
will grant you absolution.” 

“ I promise.” 

An unusual noise was heard in the courtyard. 
Voices were raised and doors were hastily opened 
and closed. 

Francis has come! ” said the Princess. “ Leave 
me, I pray you. Monseigneur, but remain within 
call. Bid Gretchen to admit my guest without de- 
lay.” 

Her commands were obeyed, and shortly the 
dying woman and the Prince of Aremburg were 
face to face. The young stranger was certainly at- 
tractive. His figure, though slight, was well pro- 
portioned, and there was a dignity and grace in 
every movement. His face, with its aristocratic 
curves, bore a striking resemblance to the de- 
ceased Prince of Aremburg. . Its expression was 
sweet, yet there were firm lines about the mouth, 
indicative of an ability to decide and to abide by 
his decisions with the courage born of conviction. 


i6 THE SILENT PRINCE 

His complexion was pale, but it was not the sickly 
pallor of an invalid, but rather the scholarly reflec- 
tion from books. 

For a moment the young man stood by the bed- 
side of the dying Princess in silence. Then he said: 

“We meet once more, Madame la Princesse. 
Tell me your commands quickly, that I may leave 
this place so full of sad remembrances.’' 

“ Francis, I have summoned you to beg of you 
to return to the one true fold. You know that I 
love you, and your soul’s salvation is dear to my 
heart. My fortune is at your disposal if you will 
only renounce your Huguenot doctrines. Will 
you not grant my dying request? ” 

“ Dear madam,” said the young man with emo- 
tion, “ your words affect me deeply, but my duty 
to God and my own conscience must precede my 
duty to man. I do not desire your money. I am a 
Protestant and shall always remain so. Is it possi- 
ble that you do not know who I am? ” He stooped 
and whispered a name in her ear. The effect was 
startling. With a shriek the Princess cried: “ You, 
that vile, blasphemous preacher! Holy Mother! 
this is too much ! ” With a groan she sank fainting 
upon the pillows. 

Monseigneur Ryder and the nurse hearing the 
Princess cry out, hurried to the bedside. The latter 
administered a strong stimulant, but it was in vain. 
The last great change was stealing over the face of 


THE DEATHBED OF A PRINCESS 17 


the great lady. After giving the stranger a keen 
glance, the holy father began to perform the last 
rites of the Church. Before he had finished his 
prayers for the passing soul, the Princess Elizabeth 
was dead. Amid the lamentations and the con- 
fusion which the news of the great lady’s decease 
caused her household, the Protestant preacher went 
unobserved from the palace. 

It was only when Monseigneur Ryder’s place 
was taken by other functionaries of the Church, and 
he was seated in the dead lady’s oratory, that the 
face of the young man returned to his mind. 

That countenance is familiar,” he mused. 
‘‘ Where have I met that man? Ah, I have it! It 
was two years ago when I was sent on a secret mis- 
sion to Geneva. This young fellow was creating 
quite a stir with his wonderful oratorical gifts. The 
Prince of Aremburg and the proscribed preacher 
Francis Junius are one and the same person.” 

Father Ryder sprang to his feet and’ paced the 
floor in excitement. May the saints forgive me, 
if I have unwittingly allowed the most dangerous 
heretic in all the Netherlands to slip out of my 
hands.” 

The priest left the oratory, and made his way 
with catlike tread to the courtyard, where sev- 
eral guards were lounging. Beckoning one of them 
into an anteroom. Father Ryder said, ‘‘ Did you 


i8 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


mark that stranger who was with the Princess dur- 
ing her last hours? ” 

“ Yes, your reverence.” 

“ Where is he now? ” 

“ He hurried off some time ago. I did not notice 
which way he went.” 

'' You must find him at all hazards.” 

“ I can try, your reverence.” 

Can you hold your tongue? ” 

Surely, your reverence.” 

“ Then God and the Holy Virgin speed you on 
your way. If you are successful, you shall have a 
handful of ducats. But if I find you unfaithful, 
your back shall smart for many a day. Now be- 
gone! ” 

The priest returned to the oratory, but instead 
of repeating prayers for the dead, he was planning 
a scene in which Monseigneur Ryder and the 
heretic Francis Junius were to be the chief actors. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE ADVENTURE. 

Francis Junius hurried from the presence of 
the Princess of Aremburg, feeling confident that 
the look of half recognition on the Jesuit’s face 
boded ill. He wrapped his fur-trimmed cloak more 
closely around him, and drawing his slouched hat 
well over his face, soon left the palace far behind in 
the distance. 

As he neared the brow of a hill, a cry for help 
was heard. Looking back, the preacher saw a 
frightened horse covered with foam, which with 
hanging head and dilated nostrils was galloping 
madly on. The beast was a powerful animal, and 
his rider, a mere boy, had lost all control of him. 
He had loosened his hold on the reins and was 
clinging to the horse’s mane. It was evident that 
if the animal dashed down the hill, he would stum- 
ble and fall, or would at least succeed in flinging 
his rider. Without a second’s hesitation Junius 
threw himself directly in the path of the frightened 
steed, and seized the bridle. With an almost super- 
human effort he endeavored to force the horse 


19 


20 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Upon his haunches, but the maddened brute reared 
and plunged wildly, and threatened to throw the 
preacher down and trample him under his hoofs. 
Junius dealt the animal a powerful blow with his 
clenched fist on its forehead. The brute recog- 
nized the hand of a master, and quivering in every 
limb he stood still. 

The young rider slipped off the horse’s back and 
stood before his rescuer. 

“ Seigneur,” he said in faltering tones, how 
can I express my thanks to you? You have saved 
me from a terrible death.” 

The lad who thus spoke was perhaps fifteen 
years of age, with a tall slight figure and a delicate 
feminine face. His features were perfect in out- 
line. The rounded chin and curved lips were ex- 
quisitely formed. The broad white brow was 
shaded by rings of bronze-brown hair, and from 
under delicately pencilled eyebrows looked forth a 
pair of wonderful dark-blue eyes, clear yet fathom- 
less, like a lake on which the sun is shining. That 
the lad belonged to a family of consequence was 
evidenced by his rich though disorderly dress. 

Junius was attracted by the frank, ingenuous 
countenance of the youth, and he answered with a 
smile, Yes, my young sir, you have had a narrow 
escape. My appearance at this time was truly 
providential. You are not strong enough to man- 
age such a powerful animal.” 


THE ADVENTURE 


2J 


“ Fritz said that I was foolhardy,” answered the 
boy, “ and I now know that he was right. But for 
you, I should have paid dearly for my wilfulness.” 

Just at this moment a servant in splendid livery 
rode up on horseback, pale and breathless. 

“ Ah, my lord Hugo,” he said, “ you have 
given me a terrible fright. I will never consent 
again to your riding this wicked brute. You know 
I told you he was altogether too fresh and full of 
mettle for you to use. I fairly held my breath when 
you dashed out of sight. My lord knows that I 
cannot refuse him anything,” and Fritz gazed re- 
proachfully into the face of his youthful master. 

You have a right to rebuke me,” replied Hugo. 
“ I admit that I was a foolish fellow not to take 
your advice. But I want you to say nothing to my 
uncle about the affair, there’s a good Fritz. You 
know uncle will not allow me my liberty, if he 
should know of this escapade. There really is no 
harm done to ahy one. See, I have not so much 
as a scratch ! Now take both the horses back to the 
stable. I will follow as soon as I have spoken with 
my rescuer.” 

Fritz gave a reluctant consent to his master’s re- 
quest, and departed to do his bidding. 

The boy turned once more to Junius. 

Seigneur,” he said, “ can I not do something 
for you to repay you for your kindness? Or, bet- 
ter yet, will you not accompany me to my uncle’s 


22 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


house? You look sad and ill. I know my uncle 
would do much for one who has saved the life of 
his favorite nephew.” 

“ And what may your uncle’s name be? ” replied 
Junius, touched by the lad’s ingenuous words and 
winning manner. 

‘‘ Baron Berlaymont.” The effect of this name 
upon Francis Junius was electrical. 

“You, the nephew of the Tiger of Brussels?” 
burst from the preacher’s lips. “ Is it possible to 
rear a dove in a falcon’s nest? ” 

“ The Tiger of Brussels,” repeated the boy in 
astonishment. “ Is that what people call my un- 
cle? Why should one so good and kind be called 
a tiger? It is unjust, monstrous! ” 

“ Ask Baron Berlaymont to take you to the dun- 
geons of the Inquisition in Brussels, where hun- 
dreds of your fellow countrymen languish in 
noisome cells, or to witness the spectacle, far from 
rare, of the terrible auto da fe. Your uncle’s voice 
is heard in all the councils. His lips are the first 
to denounce the heretic. You will then find an an- 
swer to your question.” 

The youth gazed spellbound into the stern face 
of the preacher. His cheek flushed and paled. 
The fruits of the tree of knowledge were already 
producing bitterness of soul. Hugo whispered 
rather than spoke the words, “ Is my uncle one of 
the inquisitors? ” 


THE ADVENTURE 


23 


Junius regretted his harsh accusation as he 
gazed into the guileless face of the boy, and his 
heart smote him with sharp reproach. He would 
gladly have retracted his words, when he saw the 
pain he had caused. He had unwittingly changed 
the whole tenor of that young life. He had for- 
ever closed the golden door of trust in that young 
heart. With a word he had exposed the sin and 
misery of the world in their nakedness. With a 
look of compassion, and with infinite tenderness, 
he answered, 

“ Yes, my boy.’' 

“ And is it because you are a heretic that you will 
not seek my uncle’s presence? ” 

Again the preacher nodded assent. 

Hugo Berlaymont stood for a moment in 
thoughtful silence, then he said, “ Seigneur, I want 
to know more about your religion.” 

Junius smiled sadly. “ Why seek, my boy, to 
enter upon so dangerous an experiment? You are 
young, and your path in life is without doubt al- 
ready mapped out for you.” 

'' Seigneur, I must know the truth.” 

The preacher was silent for a few moments. The 
passion for souls was strong within him. In this 
time of religious and political upheaval, mighty in- 
terests left small space for delicacy of feeling. The 
thought that he was acting in direct antagonism 
to the wishes of the lad’s natural guardian never 


24 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


occurred to Junius in the far greater question of 
the lad’s eternal happiness or misery. That he 
might test his companion’s strength of character, 
he hazarded another argument. 

“ My boy, the religion you seek is banned and 
persecuted. You can learn about it only by 
stealth. Are you capable of keeping inviolate a 
weighty secret? ” 

“ I am,” was the fearless reply. Looking into 
the earnest face of the youth, the preacher’s last, 
lingering objection was silenced. 

“ The finger of God is in this request,” he said 
devoutly. “ I may not deny my Master’s message 
to any sincere seeker. Come to-night to the shop 
of the hairdresser. Monsieur Le Fevre, where I 
shall preach the Word to the brethren. The pass- 
word is ‘ Fidelity.’ I trust you implicitly. Having 
saved your life, I know that you will not deliver me 
into the hands of the Inquisition.” With a kind 
smile, Junius held out his hand in farewell. 

“ You can trust me, Seigneur,” cried Hugo. “ I 
will never betray you.” 


CHAPTER III. 


THE HUGUENOT PREACHER. 

In all the large towns and cities throughout Hol- 
land and Belgium, and even in Brussels, where re- 
sided the Regent, the preaching of the reformed 
faith was carried forward. Now winked at, now 
persecuted with the utmost vigor, always exposed 
to mortal peril, the Reformation never lacked fear- 
less and devoted preachers. Some of these were 
converted monks, like Christopher Fabricius, Her- 
mann Strycker and Peter Dathenus. Others were 
men of humble calling and no education, who, un- 
fortunately for themselves and others, remembered 
at this time that the early disciples were not doc- 
tors of theology or the proud possessors of di- 
plomas from the centres of learning. These cur- 
riers, barbers, tinkers, and dyers began to preach 
also. It is a sad fact that their ill-timed exhor- 
tations sometimes did more to retard the cause of 
the Reformation than to advance it. 

But the charge of illiteracy could not be levelled 
at such preachers as Ambrose Wille, Guy de Bray, 
Peregrine de la Grange and Francis Junius, all 

25 


26 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


men of culture and. learning, and all scions of the 
noblest houses in France and Belgium. These men 
had been educated at the most celebrated universi- 
ties, and had studied theology at the feet of Calvin. 

After his meeting with the preacher, Hugo Ber- 
laymont spent the remainder of the day in the 
library. At dusk, he had no difficulty in leaving 
the house unobserved, for his uncle was away, and 
the servants were too much occupied with their 
own affairs to watch his movements. This night 
expedition had about it all the coloring of a ro- 
mance, and the spice of danger only deepened the 
fascination. 

The shop of the celebrated hairdresser was bril- 
liantly lighted, and several patrons were receiv- 
ing the attentions of the tonsorial artists, when 
Hugo entered the door. Monsieur le Fevre came 
forward with smiles and eloquent gestures of wel- 
come. Yet a gleam of suspicion lurked in his eye, 
as he beheld the nephew of Baron Berlaymont, — 
the man of whom it was asserted that he had but 
one passion stronger than his pride, and that was 
his bigotry: that slavish vassal of the Church, 
whose fanaticism and cruelty had earned for him 
the title, Tiger of Brussels.” 

“ How can I serve my lord? ” said Monsieur, 
bowing obsequiously. 

Hugo drew the hairdresser aside, and said in a 
whisper, I desire speech with the preacher who is 


THE HUGUENOT PREACHER 


27 


to come here to-night. I met and talked with him 
to-day. He said the word ‘ Fidelity ’ would admit 
me to his presence.” Le Fevre looked into the 
youth’s honest eyes, and was satisfied with their ex- 
pression. 

“ All right! ” he said briefly. “ Follow me.” 

After looking around and seeing that the last 
customer had been served, Monsieur told his at- 
tendants to close the shop for the night. He then 
said in a loud voice to Hugo, “ Perfumes, did you 
say? Come, my lord, into the next room, and I 
will show you some perfumes worthy of your in- 
spection. It only remains for you to select the 
odor you prefer. Many young gentlemen are fond 
of musk, but to me it is very disagreeable.” 

The door which led into the front shop being 
closed, it is needless to state that Le Fevre and his 
companion did not loiter to test the quality of con- 
centrated extracts. Behind a curtain was a door, 
and through this the two entered a long, dimly 
lighted passage, passed through another door, and 
then down a flight of stairs into a large cellar. 

About a hundred people were present, mostly 
men and women from the humble walks of life 
— mechanics, artisans, farmers, bakers — all sons of 
toil, with their wives and children. It needed but 
a glance into those earnest, devout faces to read 
the tale of suffering and devotion to a well-chosen 
cause. Old men with whitened locks were there. 


28 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


who, though unable by reason of feebleness to de- 
fend their faith, yet were willing to suffer for its 
preservation. Tender women were there with 
faces of sweet resignation. Boys and girls hardly 
old enough to grasp the great truths of their faith, 
or to fully comprehend its dangers, were there, as 
well as men in the prime of life, who were fully de- 
termined to fight valiantly for their convictions. 
Calamity and ruin menaced every one present, yet 
the audience sat listening with eagerness to every 
word which fell from the lips of their beloved 
preacher; words which, if overheard by their ene- 
mies, would deliver them over to certain de- 
struction. A hymn was being sung when the hair- 
dresser and his companion entered the cellar. 
They sat down in the rear of the audience, unob- 
served, except by a few persons. The only light 
in the cellar was from a single lamp, so placed that 
its rays shone directly upon the preacher’s face, 
and brought out in bold relief his stern, pale fea- 
tures. Thought and sorrow and hardship had 
ploughed deep furrows on that noble countenance, 
and robbed it of every vestige of color. Pale as 
marble, it gleamed from under the dark hair. His 
eyes surveyed his unlettered audience, and seemed 
to divine the secret thoughts of the men and 
women before him. 

The preacher was attired in a dark suit, notice- 
able for its simplicity and lack of ornamentation. 


THE HUGUENOT PREACHER 


29 


A dagger hung by his side. In fact, every man 
present had a weapon of some kind concealed 
about his person. The Netherlanders believed in 
the righteousness of armed resistance, and their 
preachers were of necessity men of war. 

When Francis Junius rose to speak, Hugo Ber- 
laymont forgot everything else, and gazed as one 
fascinated into the dark, attractive face. Junius 
was pre-eminently an orator. Feeling deeply the 
truth of the message he had to bring, he swept 
others by storm. Yet he never so far forgot him- 
self but what he held immense forces in reserve. 
He possessed the graceful eloquence, the pic- 
turesque diction, and striking imagery of the south, 
combined with a magnetic voice, which was capa- 
ble of expressing every shade of emotion. 

God’s pioneers in the Reformation were strong, 
rugged, uncompromising men, like Martin Luther, 
John Knox, John Calvin. These men were like 
the backwoodsman, who with axe in hand hews 
a path through the primeval forest. Junius was 
the representative of a class of preachers who came 
after, and who by their persuasive logic won by 
love what the others had gained through fear. 
Each type of reformer was necessary in God’s plan. 

The preacher’s text was in the words of Jesus, 
“ I came not to bring peace upon the earth, but a 
sword and his discourse included a vigorous de- 


30 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


nouncement of the cruel edicts, and an appeal for 
resistance. 

“ Brethren of the Netherlands,” he said, “ we 
are commanded to wield the sword in this right- 
eous cause. God calls us to be the weapon with 
which to overcome falsehood and oppression. 
Though you are among the least of the nations, 
you may yet win victories which shall place you 
among the greatest. The contest shall be that of 
all humanity. You may yet expel the seeds of dis- 
ease from this soil. You are not yet exiled and 
hunted, like your brethren, the unhappy Hugue- 
nots. Exert yourselves to save your native land. 
Linger not until the bloody edicts of the oppressor 
shall be enforced. I know from experience that 
^ the bread of the exile is bitter, and tears fall into 
his cup.' 

“ In this age men are tested and judged. What 
shall be written of you? That you fought the good 
fight of faith, and delivered your native land from 
the hand of the destroyer? or that you submitted 
like cowards, and allowed the tyrant to plant his 
heel on your necks? Think you that submission 
will bring mercy? Look at the emissaries of the 
Inquisition! Look at Spain! Then lay aside all 
dreams of mercy. In Spain the auto da fe still 
sends up its lurid fires; the rack is never without a 
victim, her prisons are always crowded. Our ene- 
mies have shown us that their forbearance is re- 


t 


THE HUGUENOT PREACHER 


31 


luctant weakness, that their persecutions are tri- 
umphant power. Brethren of the Netherlands, will 
you suffer such atrocities to take place on this free 
soil? ” 

The audience was strongly moved. The men 
clenched their fists, and their eyes flashed fire. 
Their labored breathing sounded like a reply to the 
preacher’s question. 

Junius raised his hand and all was silent. With 
a face working with suppressed emotion, he leaned 
forward and said: 

“ Brethren, let me relate what I last heard from 
the Inquisition in Spain. You all know about the 
dreadful oubliette, that dark, sealed dungeon, where 
the poor victim is starved by degrees. The other 
day one of these dreadful places was opened. Only 
the skeleton of a man was found, but on the wall 
above his head he had traced with a piece of char- 
coal his confession of faith: ‘ O Christ, they may 
separate me from Thy Church, but they cannot 
separate me from Thee.’ 

‘'Remember this, my brethren: it is not alone 
for our own sakes that we are willing to suffer, but 
for Christ’s sake. It is for His sake that we are 
killed all the day long. But thanks be to God, we 
shall yet come off more than conquerors, through 
Him who hath loved us.” 

The preacher’s face lighted up with a serene 
smile, which lent to it a singular charm. For the 


32 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


moment he looked youthful. All the traces of care, 
sorrow and hardship which the last few years had 
written upon his features were effaced by this ex- 
pression of exquisite joy. Raising his eyes and 
lifting his hands he cried, “ O Thou, once cruci- 
fied and now glorified Redeemer, stand Thou be- 
fore our eyes, as Thou wast last seen by Thine in- 
fant church, with Thy hands extended over Thy 
people to bless them. Thy children need Thee. 
As Thy reign upon earth was inaugurated by the 
murder of little children, so even to this day inno- 
cent blood is being shed.'^ 

Hardly were these words uttered, when a lurid 
glare shone through the windows, and made the 
entire cellar as light as day. Sounds of confusion, 
accompanied by the tramp of hurried feet and the 
echo of many voices, broke upon the stillness. A 
nameless fear fell upon this little band of disciples. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE SILENT PRINCE. 

The market-place was a dark, heaving sea of 
humanity — soldiers, priests, magistrates, courtiers, 
countrymen and townsmen, who had gathered by 
common consent about a space which had been 
cleared of snow. Look where you would, there 
was nothing to be seen but heads. All eyes were 
fixed with curiosity on the open square, with its 
significant stake, its iron chains and heaps of fag- 
gots. Men were jostled and buffeted in their de- 
sire to see the awful spectacle. Silence reigned su- 
preme. It was like the ominous stillness which 
precedes the thunder-storm. 

Soon from out the gloomy prison came the sol- 
diers, who conducted their victim to the place of 
execution. The unfortunate man was gagged, yet 
no one could help seeing that he was a terrified and 
unwilling actor in this tragedy. As he neared the 
market-place, the silence was broken by groans 
and hisses, and cries of “ Coward! ” '' Renegade! ” 
burst spontaneously from a hundred throats. 

Just at this moment the crowd parted, to make 

33 


34 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


way for a splendid equipag'e, on which was em- 
blazoned the escutcheon of the Prince of Orange. 
In an instant the tumult ceased, and all but the 
soldiers uncovered their heads as the nobleman 
rode slowly toward the royal palace. There were 
two occupants in the carriage. The younger man 
had a handsome face, a dark complexion, large and 
expressive brown eyes, and symmetrical features. 
His forehead was high and spacious. He wore a 
mustache and a pointed beard. There were threads 
of silver in the dark hair, and the forehead was 
wrinkled by anxious thought. His frame was 
slightly bent, as if the weight of public affairs 
rested too heavily upon his shoulders. He was 
dressed in the magnificent costume for which the 
Netherlanders were famous. This man was Wil- 
liam of Nassau, the Prince of Orange. 

Born of Protestant parentage, William was sent 
to Brussels to be educated when but eleven years 
of age. He served the Emperor Charles in the ca- 
pacity of page. The Emperor soon discovered that 
the lad was no ordinary boy. Even at this early 
age he showed remarkable prudence, judgment, 
and the power, so rare, of reading and using men. 
His royal patron soon raised him to the rank of 
confidential adviser. His natural abilities were 
stimulated and developed in this Javorable atmos- 
phere. During his long apprenticeship at the court 
of the most powerful monarch of his age, William 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


35 


carefully observed the great events of history 
which were taking place. When he arrived at 
man’s estate, Charles rapidly advanced his young 
favorite, and the highest and most important duties 
were confided to his discretion. Before he was 
twenty-one years of age, William was made com- 
mander-in-chief of the army on the French fron- 
tier. 

It was on the arm of William that the Emperor 
leaned in that magnificent scene of his abdication; 
and William was also selected by Philip, on account 
of his wonderful gift of diplomacy, to arrange the 
terms of the famous treaty with France. It was 
during his absence from the Netherlands on this 
embassy that he made the discovery which earned 
for him the title '' The Silent Prince.” 

While hunting with King Henry in the forest at 
Vincennes, William and his royal host became sepa- 
rated from the rest of the company. The King was 
full of a plot, which he and Philip were concocting, 
to extirpate Protestantism from France and the 
Netherlands. Feeling confident of the sympathy 
of William, whom he believed to be aware of the 
plan, Henry opened the subject without reserve. 
His discreet companion manifested no surprise, 
even when Henry with cruel cynicism explained 
the details of the projected massacre, and volun- 
teered the information that the Spanish troops 
were being retained in the Netherlands for no other 


36 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


purpose than the extermination of the accursed 
vermin.” 

Burning with indignation at this cold-blooded 
narrative, and horror-stricken at the imminent peril 
of his fellow' countrymen, William nevertheless 
assumed a mask which his life at court had taught 
him, and received the news with a serene counte- 
nance. When his friends learned of this incident, 
they called him thereafter “ William the Taciturn.” 

From this moment the seeds of Protestantism 
which had been planted in his infant mind by his 
pious mother, Juliana of Stolberg, began to take 
root. He made it in his way to return to the Neth- 
erlands as speedily as possible, fully determined to 
compel the King to recall the Spanish troops and 
to crush the Inquisition. 

On this occasion the Prince of Orange was 
actuated by philanthropic motives alone. He was 
not a religious enthusiast, nor an advocate of the 
Reformation. He simply detested murder, and was 
unwilling to see thousands of his innocent fellow 
countrymen slaughtered in cold blood. At this 
period in his career William concerned himself 
very little with questions of theology. He was a 
Catholic both in belief and outward observance. 
He was a generous, courteous, liberal-minded no- 
bleman, beloved and honored by all. The subtlety 
and breadth of his intellect, his adroitness in con- 
ducting State affairs, his broad and tolerant views, 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


37 


and his profound knowledge of human nature, 
made him the leading man in the Netherlands. 

The other occupant of the carriage was Count 
Brederode, a middle-aged nobleman, blunt, honest 
and sour-faced. 

“ This sight is sickening,” said William to his 
companion. “ Do you know the poor fellow who 
is about to be executed? ” 

“ It is that apostate priest, Hendricks,” replied 
the Count. “ The Church held out to him the hope 
of mercy, and the poor wretch recanted. The 
Church says now that his repentance was nothing 
short of hypocrisy, and they are going to burn him 
as a warning to others. The fellow is not worthy 
of your sympathy. Prince. He is naught but a 
coward, and richly deserves punishment, although 
I grant you it comes from unjust hands.” 

“ Possibly the fellow is a coward. Count,” said 
William. “ It is easy for us to call him names, sit- 
ting as we do in perfect safety. Who knows but 
what we too would be cowards, with the stake be- 
fore us, and a single word between us and the fire. 
I am free to confess, I should not like to be sub- 
jected to so rigorous a test.” 

‘"Why did Hendricks and scores of others like 
him apostatize, then? ” demanded the Count. 

They all know what that word implies. Heretics 
must not pose as Scsevolas, and thrust their hands 
into the flames, if they intend to draw back when 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


38 

the flesh smarts. It is the same with the field ser- 
vices. The burghers know they are prohibited, 
yet they attend by thousands. Then a cry of exe- 
ci'ation arises when they are surprised and pun- 
ished. They tell me that Antwerp is even now in a 
tumult, because one of their conventicles was dis- 
turbed, and the preacher together with twenty fol- 
lowers put to the sword. As for myself. Prince, 
continued Count Brederode with his accustomed 
recklessness, “ I went to church this morning like 
a good Catholic, and I can say from the bottom of 
my heart that I am tired of all these sermons and 
masses. The priests expatiate on God’s love and 
mercy, and entreat people to enter the fold of the 
one true Church, while between times they torture, 
hang, behead and burn men and women, for no 
other offence than daring to worship God in their 
own way. In truth, I am disgusted with such re- 
ligion.” 

The Prince of Orange smiled as he replied, My 
friend, there are some truths which it is the part of 
wisdom to keep locked in one’s breast in times like 
these.” 

They had now reached the royal palace, where 
their ways diverged, the Count going to a banquet 
of nobles, and William to take his seat in the State 
Council. 

Before alighting from the carriage. Count Bre- 
derode said jocosely, “ Tell the Regent that the no- 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


39 


bles are going to drink an extra toast to-night, to 
the good understanding between our honored lady 
and her subjects. Our gracious lady needs noth- 
ing so much as a clearer eye to read some docu- 
ments called privileges; but we nobles hope soon to 
supply her with an effective kind of eye-salve, which 
we hope will cure her malady.” 

“ You are too hard on the Regent, Count. She 
is simply Philip’s tool. She has really as much to 
contend with from that Spanish despot as we.” 

“ It seems to me,” retorted his companion, “ that 
lately the Regent has been cruel enough on her own 
account. She burned Fabricius at Antwerp, and 
executed no end of heretics in the prisons of the 
Inquisition. You are making a great mistake in 
not joining our federation of nobles. Prince.” 

“ Perhaps so,” was the quiet reply of William as 
they separated. 

The other members of the official board were 
assembled in the royal council chamber when the 
Prince of Orange entered. Foremost among the 
number was Baron Berlaymont, who was the chief 
of the finance department. Together with his sons, 
he was ever in the front rank to defend the crown 
against the nation. Then there was Viglius, a 
learned Frisian doctor of the law; also that flower 
of Flemish chivalry, the gallant but ill-fated Lamo- 
ral, Count Egmont, whose victories at St. Quen- 


40 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


tin and Gravelines had made him the people’s idol. 
Every eye was fixed inquiringly upon the Prince 
of Orange as he entered the royal apartment. Well 
might the Regent and her coadjutors study the 
finely cut features and composed expression of the 
man before them. Here was the real ruler of the 
Netherlands! Margaret, while she could not rule 
successfully without the counsel of Orange, hated 
him for his power. No woman was ever more 
jealous of her authority than Margaret of Parma. 
The love of power was like a viper, which con- 
tinually gnawed at her vitals. She hugged her 
coronet of diamonds close to her bosom, even 
though she daily and hourly paid the price in un- 
rest of soul. At the smallest cloud in the political 
sky, which would seem to suggest that her reign 
was transient, her lips would close in an agony of 
despair. The Regent was now forty-three years of 
age, a large, coarse-featured, masculine woman, 
with the imperious manner which proclaimed her 
the daughter of Charles the Fifth. She was an 
energetic woman, but possessed of a meagre edu- 
cation and few accomplishments. The art of dis- 
simulation was the only branch in which she was 
proficient. She was an ardent Catholic, having sat 
at the feet of Loyola, and imbibed the jesuitical 
spirit of her confessor and spiritual guide. 

It was evident that the Regent was in a bad 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


41 


humor. There was a dark frown on her face, and 
her voice was harsh and strident. 

'' Yes,” she was saying in reply to a remark of 
Baron Berlaymont, “ I seem to be surrounded by 
malcontents. I thought that matters were going 
on smoothly, when, lo! the nobles seem to have 
espoused the cause of the people, and are evidently 
plotting mischief. Then there are the heretics! 
It seems sometimes as though the more we tried 
to exterminate them the faster they multiplied. I 
have tried in vain to snare that satrap Huguenot, 
Francis Junius, who has dared to preach a trea- 
sonable discourse before the nobles at Culemborg 
House. When my spies were confident that they 
had him, he somehow eluded them. I only wish 
his Majesty would visit the Netherlands, and set 
matters right. 

Ho, Prince, you are late! What means the 
news I hear from Antwerp? They tell me that the 
people are turbulent and riots frequent.” 

‘‘ Your Highness, the trouble is with the edicts. 
They are too rigorous. The Netherlanders will 
never submit to the Spanish Inquisition.” 

The people of Antwerp must be pacified at any 
cost,” replied the Regent. “ As hereditary bur- 
grave of that city, I wish you to journey there at 
your earliest convenience, and straighten matters 
out.” 

The Prince bowed in assent. Gentlemen,” 


42 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


pursued the Regent, '' I have here a document from 
his Majesty, which I would like each one of you to 
read and then affix your signatures to it.” 

The message was written in fine, spider-like char- 
acters, and w^ voluminous, as were all of Philip’s 
effusions. After emphasizing the necessity of se- 
verity and of the condign punishment of rebellious 
offenders, the King concluded as follows: 

“ Rather than permit the least prejudice to the 
ancient religion, I would sacrifice all these States 
and lose a hundred lives, had I so many, for I will 
never consent to be the sovereign of heretics. If 
the troubles in the Netherlands cannot be adjusted 
without forcible measures, these latter shall be 
adopted even at the risk of destroying the whole 
country.” 

At last Philip had made an end of delay, and 
spoken out in the plainest language. There was no 
mistaking his policy. The coming atrocities were 
distinctly outlined. 

With the exception of Baron Berlaymont, the 
members of the State Council, be it said to their 
credit, signed the paper reluctantly. It was now 
handed to the Prince of Orange for perusal. Wil- 
liam read the document through carefully, and then 
laid it on the table. 

“Your Highness,” he said quietly, “I cannot 
affix my signature to this royal decree.” 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


43 


Do you refuse to obey your sovereign? de- 
manded the Regent. 

“ I beg you to pardon my presumption, your 
Highness,” replied the Prince. ‘‘ I would not in 
matters of such importance affect to be wiser, or to 
make greater pretensions than my age or expe- 
rience warrants, yet seeing affairs in such per- 
plexity, I would rather incur the risk of being 
charged with forwardness than neglect that which 
I consider my duty. You have not asked me for 
advice, but I prefer to hazard being censured for 
my remonstrance rather than to incur the suspi- 
cion of connivance at the desolation of my country 
by my silence. The only reason the whole country 
has not arisen in a great revolutionary movement 
has been because of the hope that the Inquisition 
would never be allowed to become a permanent in- 
stitution in the Netherlands. With regard to these 
new and stringent methods for enforcing the edicts, 
I beg leave to say that it would be unwise to at- 
tempt this measure in the face of universal misery 
and an exasperated people. The King will gain 
nothing from the execution of this paper, except 
difficulty for himself. Moreover, a famine is im- 
pending, and no worse moment could be chosen 
in which to enforce such a policy. I am at all times 
desirous of obeying the command of his Majesty 
and your Highness, and of discharging the duties 
of a good Christian.” 


44 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


The closing words of the Prince were signifi- 
cant. A year previous he would have said “ the 
duties of a good Catholic.” The moral as well as 
the political aspects of the Reformation were al- 
ready occupying his attention, and the time had 
come when he felt that he could no longer con- 
scientiously ignore these claims. 

“ As I foresee that I can no longer work in har- 
mony with the State Council,” concluded William, 
“ I herewith tender my resignation as a member of 
this official board.” 

With a courteous bow, the Prince withdrew from 
the Regent’s presence. 

'‘Traitor!” cried the indignant representatives 
of royalty. “ He shall suffer for this.” 

" Mark my words, your Highness,” said Baron 
Berlaymont, " that man will some day become a 
heretic.” 


CHAPTER V. 


A SINGULAR FRIENDSHIP. 

The Huguenot preacher had some difficulty in 
quieting his terrified flock. They all sprang to their 
feet as one man, and catching sight of the hand- 
some, richly attired nephew of their enemey, Baron 
Berlaymont, the cry arose on all sides, We are 
betrayed! Seize him!’' 

“ Not so, brethren,” said Francis Junius as he 
went forward and placed his hand on the lad’s 
shoulder. ‘‘ Hugo Berlaymont desires to know the 
truth, and once convinced of the. truth he will cast 
in his lot with us. It was with my permission that 
he came here to-night. Greet him as a brother.” 

With an impulsive movement Hugo flung his 
arms about the preacher in loving admiration. 
Then he turned to meet the questioning faces about 
him. 

“ Fear me not, I am no traitor. I long to be a 
friend and a brother to every one present.” 

With a quick revulsion of feeling, hard, horny 
hands were eagerly extended on every side to 
grasp that of the young lord. Distinction of rank 

45 


46 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


was forgotten in this humble assembly. They were 
all, by God’s grace, members of one family, breth- 
ren in very truth. 

The watchman who was stationed without 
brought in the cheering announcement that all was 
well. The crowd had gathered simply to witness 
the execution of Hendricks. The audience dis- 
persed with caution through a trap-door at the 
rear of the cellar, while others mounted the stair- 
case and walked out boldly at the front entrance. 

Soon Francis Junius and Hugo Berlaymont 
were left practically alone. The hairdresser and a 
young man of distinguished appearance were con- 
versing in low tones some distance away. 

“ My son,” said Junius, turning to the glowing 
face upturned to his, “ what path in life is marked 
out for you? ” 

'' I am to be a courtier.” 

Could you choose, what would you be? ” 

‘‘ Pastor Junius,” said Hugo in a broken voice, 
I would be altogether such as you are. There is 
no grander vocation than to preach God’s word 
and to save souls.” 

“ May God grant thee the desire of thy heart, 
boy, and make of thee a stronger and fairer pillar 
in His temple than Junius. Every one is privileged 
to do some work in the Master’s vineyard. The 
opportunity to serve God may not come in the 
line of thy desire, but nevertheless it will come. 


A SINGULAR FRIENDSHIP 


47 


Dost know, boy, the consequences of serving God 
with a pure conscience? Outside in the market- 
place to-night there has been a foretaste of the ter- 
rors which await the heretic: the loathsome dun- 
geon, the iron chain, the accursed gallows, and the 
cruel flames. Think, boy, of the physical agony, 
and then tell me, art thou ready to follow Junius 
in this way of sorrow? Art thou willing to die for 
the truth? ” 

Hugo Berlaymont grew as pale as a marble 
statue. Every nerve quivered and shrank from the 
terrible picture of human suffering. The weak- 
ness of the flesh plead with him to draw back while 
yet there was opportunity. But a new-born faith 
triumphed. With a steady voice and with daunt- 
less eyes the lad replied: 

I am willing, so help me Christ! ’’ 

‘‘ Amen,” said Junius, tenderly embracing the 
boy. “ God hath surely set His seal upon thy soul, 
in that He hath taken away both the love and the 
fear of the world.” 

Then placing his hand on the young lord’s head 
he added solemnly, “ The Lord bless thee and keep 
thee; the Lord grant thee, not peace, which is the 
portion of the coward, but a Christian warfare; if 
needful, a martyr’s death, at all events a victor’s 
crown. Now, my boy, I shall shortly leave the 
Netherlands for Germany. I will introduce you to 
a young advocate who is a stanch believer, who 


48 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


will help you to a more complete understanding 
of the principles of our faith/’ 

With a gesture Junius beckoned the young man 
to his side. Hugo saw a tall, lithe, broad-shoul- 
dered youth approaching, with a frank, winning 
face and a complexion as fresh and fair as a girl’s. 
His features and expression were bold and cour- 
ageous enough to atone for this dainty refinement 
of nature. The young man was attired in a doub- 
let and jerkin of fine dark cloth, long buckskin 
hose and tan shoes. He carried a velvet toque in 
his hand, and a sword hung by his side. At his 
belt was fastened a wallet of expensive leather. 

Mynheer Conrad Chenoweth,” said Junius, 
I entrust this dear lad, Hugo Berlaymont, to 
your especial care. Help him all you can.” 

The young advocate shook hands with Hugo. 
‘‘ Pastor Junius,” he said, “ I accept this trust with 
pleasure. Call upon me, my lord, for any service 
that I can render. I am every day in attendance 
upon the Prince of Orange, superintending his 
legal affairs, and his palace would be a safe place 
for you to come when you wish to see me. I will 
now bid you both good evening.” 

As Conrad Chenoweth passed out of the shop, 
he found that the crowd outside, satiated with the 
horrors of the execution, was rapidly dispersing. 
Hoping to avoid the crush, he turned aside into an 
alley. As he was passing a small and disreputable 


A SINGULAR FRIENDSHIP 


49 


inn a shrill cry for help smote upon his ears. Be- 
ing both a chivalrous and a fearless youth, Conrad 
drew his sword and walked boldly into the inn. A 
half-dozen lawless burghers had seized a priest and 
were trying to force him to drink to the confusion 
of the Pope and to the health and prosperity of all 
good Protestants. The priest was no coward, for 
his torn cassock and scratched face showed that he 
had tried manfully to defend himself in this un- 
equal contest. 

“Hold, fellows!” cried Conrad with authority. 
“ How dare you call yourselves good Protestants 
and conduct yourselves like this! Good Protes- 
tants, indeed! ” he added scornfully. “ Your reck- 
lessness is enough to bring any good cause into ill- 
repute. What has this priest done? ” 

“ He has done nothing, so far as I know,” an- 
swered a burgher. “ But it is enough that he be- 
longs to that accursed brood who slay and burn 
us. The world will be better off when we rid it of 
these black devils.” 

“ Shame! ” cried Conrad, “ to attack a defence- 
less man and bring dishonor upon the cause of the 
Protestants. Release this man and then get to 
your homes, you idle, drunken fellows! ” 

“ It is the advocate, Heer Chenoweth, of the 
household of the Prince of Orange,” muttered the 
innkeeper. These words seemed to produce a 
magical effect, for the burghers began at once to 


50 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


stammer out their lame apologies. One by one 
they left the inn. 

The priest was a middle-aged man, attired in 
the soutane and biretta which proclaimed him a 
member of the Order of Jesus. His face was sen- 
sitive and high-bred. It had the intensity of ex- 
pression, the bright eye and the transparency of 
complexion which characterized a religious en- 
thusiast. His form, the outline of which could be 
dimly seen beneath his cloak, was thin to emacia- 
tion. His long, nervous fingers trembled with sup- 
pressed excitement. Whatever might be said of 
many sleek, well-fed priests who walked the streets 
of Brussels, and who gave no outward evidence of 
a life of self-denial, this Jesuit was evidently a se- 
vere ascetic. 

A grave smile hovered about his lips as Conrad 
Chenoweth approached him, and he said in grate- 
ful tones: 

“ Mynheer Chenoweth, I beg of you to accept 
my thanks for your timely assistance. I think 
those wild beasts would soon have torn me to 
pieces. I should be glad of your company and 
your protection until we reach a more civilized 
part of the city.” 

“ With pleasure,” answered the advocate. 

They walked in silence until they arrived at the 
great cathedral. “ I will trouble you no longer, 
Heer Chenoweth,” said the priest. “ Yonder is 


A SINGULAR FRIENDSHIP 51 

the house of my Order. Rest assured I shall not 
forget your kindness. The time may come when 
Father Steen can give you more substantial proofs 
of his gratitude. I still owe to another of your 
blood a debt which has long remained uncan- 
celled.’’ 

He held out his hand, which the young man 
grasped warmly. Thus began the strange friend- 
ship between Father Steen, the Jesuit priest, and 
the Protestant advocate, Conrad Chenoweth. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE burgomaster’s DAUGHTER. 

Conrad Chenoweth had planned an early trip 
to Antwerp to visit his parents and to renew his 
acquaintance with the playmate of his childhood, 
Hilvardine, only daughter of the Burgomaster, 
Anthony Van Straalen. The unsettled state of 
affairs in Brussels, and the absence of the Prince of 
Orange, made it impossible for the young advocate 
to leave his post for several months. 

The famous Compromise, issued by the nobles 
in resistance to the Inquisition, had been fairly 
launched. Two hundred of the confederates, led 
by Count Brederode and Louis of Nassau, brother 
of Prince William, had marched with great pomp 
and ceremony to the royal palace, and presented 
the frightened Regent with their formidable peti- 
tion. Baron Berlaymont quieted her fears with the 
celebrated remark, “Your Highness has nothing 
to fear from this crowd of beggars.” The nobles 
were indignant at this term of reproach, but the 
reckless Brederode laughed scornfully. 

“ They call us beggars,” he said. “ Let us ac- 

52 


THE BURGOMASTER’S DAUGHTER 53 

cept the name. We will contend with the Inquisi- 
tion, but remain loyal to the King, even till com- 
pelled to wear the beggar’s sack.” 

The shibboleth was invented. For the first time, 
from these reckless and debauched nobles rose the 
cry, “ Vivent les Gueulx! Long live the Beggars! ” 
The beggar’s wallet and the wooden bowl became 
the symbol of Protestantism in the Netherlands. 
The enemies of freedom had provided a watchword 
for the discontented nation, and the shout, “ Vivent 
les Gueulx! ” was soon to prove powerful enough 
to find an answering voice from palace and hovel, 
through the forest or on the sea; and the deeds of 
savagery perpetrated by these ‘‘ wild beggars,” 
‘‘ forest beggars ” and the “ beggars of the sea,” 
convinced even Philip the Slow of the character of 
the nation which he had driven to madness. 

It was not till one morning in May that Conrad 
Chenoweth found himself in old Antwerp. He was 
very fond of the picturesque town, with its cupo- 
lated water-gates, its busy wharves, its canals, its 
drawbridges and its windmills. The air was cool 
and fragrant with all the delicate freshness of May. 
Nature under the exquisite touch of Spring was ir- 
resistible. There was a pleasant undercurrent of 
sound in the air: the drowsy hum of bees, the 
musical tinkle of childish laughter, and the cheerful 
twitter of birds. The landscape was rich in color. 
The rose-red roofs, trees in first leaf, richly-tinted 


54 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


sails, gaily-painted windmills, and women in their 
blue or brown jackets and jaunty caps, made a 
varied yet harmonious picture. The broad Scheldt 
was alive with ships, which carried on a ceaseless 
traffic. The merchant fleets rested as proudly on 
her bosom as though the ashes of heretics did not 
lie beneath those dancing waters. 

Conrad’s heart swelled with sorrow as he saw a 
fleet of vessels sailing outside the harbor of Ant- 
werp, bound for English shores. Too well he un- 
derstood the reason. The Spanish Inquisition had 
driven the industrious Flemings from their homes, 
to enrich those port which welcomed the exiles. 

“ Unless the tide of emigration ceases,” he said 
to a countryman who was passing, “ Antwerp is a 
doomed city. Yonder ships are sailing the wrong 
way.” 

“You are right. Mynheer,” answered the bur- 
gher. Then lowering his voice he added, “ King 
Philip will soon have no people left in the Nether- 
lands to hang or burn.” 

In the suburbs of this great commercial metrop- 
olis stood the house of Dr. John Chenoweth. It 
was a large brick structure, two stories high, with 
faint pencillings of white relieving the sombre 
coloring of the brick. Over the front door was 
a floriated arch, with artistically carved heads as 
finials. There were numerous projecting gables, 
and each gable was surmounted by the proverbial 


THE BURGOMASTER’S DAUGHTER 55 


weathercock, and there were besides many archi- 
tectural surprises in the form of cornices and quaint 
windows, which delighted the eye. The house had 
the usual accompaniment of houses in the suburbs, 
a large garden, which sloped down to the banks of 
the river. In th - rear of the house stood the stable. 
At this moment the owner was delivering a stern 
rebuke to a villainous-looking groom. 

Dr. Chenoweth was a large man, having the 
Flemish cast of features, with fair hair and blue 
eyes. His strong, plain face was smooth-shaven. 
There was unity in his simple face, his resolute ex- 
pression and his searching yet kind eyes. The man 
and his mission were eminently harmonious. To 
serve his fellow men had ever been his purpose. 
Much of his service had been gratuitous, and al- 
though a man past the meridian of life, he was far 
from being in affluent circumstances. 

Maurits,'’ he was saying, ‘‘ this is the third 
time within as many weeks that you have been 
carousing at the Golden Lion. I can stand it no 
longer. You quit my service to-day.” 

With these stern words he paid the groom and 
discharged him. Had he seen the look of hatred 
which crossed Maurits’ face the doctor might not 
have so quickly banished the episode from his 
mind. His attention was diverted by the sudden 
appearance of his son. 

“ Ah, Conrad, my boy,” said the doctor, stretch- 


56 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


ing out his hand in pleased surprise. ‘‘ Welcome 
home! It has been a long time since you were able 
to visit us.” 

The affairs of the Prince of Orange are in such 
a disturbed condition that it is well-nigh impossi- 
ble for me to leave Brussels. But it is good to be 
here. By the way, who was that hangdog knave 
whom I just met skulking off the premises? ” 

“ It was a drunken, thieving groom whom I have 
just discharged.” 

“ I am glad to hear that. The man is a villain if 
ever there was one. It is such crop-eared rogues 
who should fill our jails and make the hangman’s 
business good, instead of respectable. God-fearing 
burghers.” 

“ You are right, my son. Now let us find the 
good vrouw. I think we shall surprise her in the 
kitchen, giving her directions for the evening 
meal.” 

They stole unobserved to the window and stood 
a moment gazing at the domestic scene. In the 
twilight the kitchen was the pleasantest spot in the 
house. It was a large, low room, with a brick floor 
and a wide hearth, flanked on each side by huge 
iron dogs, so massive that they could have sup- 
ported with ease the trunk of a tree. Over this 
hung the ancient spit, within whose gloomy depths 
were strung necklaces of sausages and shapely 
hams to smoke. As the wood fire snapped and 


THE BURGOMASTER'S DAUGHTER 57 

crackled showers of sparks flew up the wide chim- 
ney, and the ruddy light sent grotesque shadows 
dancing over the walls. In the centre of the room, 
superintending the servants as they prepared a 
substantial repast, was the stately figure of the doc- 
tor's wife. 

Agatha Chenoweth was still a handsome woman, 
although no longer young. Her face was beauti- 
ful, not with the fragile delicacy which is so often 
called beauty, but with the beauty of strength. Her 
mother was a French Huguenot and her father a 
Flemish nobleman. John Chenoweth knew when 
first he saw her in one of the forbidden conventicles 
that she was as dear to him as his own soul. With 
a quiet persistence which was a part of his heritage, 
he made her acquaintance. Although he was aware 
that Agatha Van Cortlandt had refused the hand of 
more than one nobleman, this penniless young doc- 
tor, with boldness, yet with manly dignity, pressed 
his suit. His simple integrity and unselfish devo- 
tion won the heart of this noble maiden. Their 
mutual friend, the French Huguenot preacher 
Peregrine de la Grange, married them. Four chil- 
dren had been given them, two of whom died in 
infancy, leaving to comfort their hearts the talented 
young advocate, Conrad, and a little daughter, 
Elizabeth. 

The remaining occupant of the kitchen was the 
Burgomaster’s daughter, who sat before the huge 


58 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


fireplace with the sleepy Elizabeth on her knees, 
telling the child a story from the quaint Dutch 
tiles. 

Hilvardine Van Straalen was a tall, slender girl, 
with a figure which gave promise of a richer out- 
line in the years to come. Her dark hair, broad, 
white brow, large, brown eyes fringed with dark 
lashes, her changing expression and fleeting color, 
made her face singularly attractive. Possibly some 
would say that the small mouth closed a trifle too 
firmly for a girl of eighteen years, and that her chin 
was too clear-cut and resolute for amiability. But 
no one could deny that her voice was soft and low, 
and there was witchery in her musical laugh. 

The sudden opening of the outer door made the 
occupants of the kitchen look anxiously around. 

“My son, my Conrad!^’ cried Madam Cheno- 
weth as she folded her boy to her heart and pressed 
a fond kiss on his lips. 

Little Elizabeth roused at the commotion, and 
with a cry of joy ran and threw her arms about her 
brother. 

“ Softly, softly, thou small hurricane! ’’ said Con- 
rad as he disengaged himself from this violent em- 
brace and tossed his little sister to a perch on his 
shoulder. 

Hilvardine rose as though to leave the kitchen, 
but the young advocate, who had noted her every 
movement since he entered the room, came for- 
ward and intercepted her flight. 


THE BURGOMASTER’S DAUGHTER 59 


'' Hilvardine, my little playfellow, have you no 
welcome for me? ’’ 

“ I am certainly glad to see you, Heer Cheno- 
weth,” was the demure reply. “ But I think it is 
time that I returned. I do not wish to intrude on 
this your first night at home for many months.’' 

“Nonsense, Hilvardine!” replied Madam Cheno- 
weth. “ Of course you will remain until after tea 
and hear the news from the. Capital. Then if you 
insist upon going early, Conrad will take you to 
your father’s house in safety.” 

With a mother’s keen intuition Madam Cheno- 
weth divined her son’s wish, for she had long ago 
read his secret. The burgomaster’s daughter did 
not need much urging to accede to a request which 
was evidently an agreeable one. 

Lysken, the nurse, now came to put Elizabeth 
to bed. Dr. Chenoweth took the delicate, fairy- 
like form of his child in his arms and kissed her 
many times. 

“ Ah, my little daughter,” he said, “ I fear that 
you were born in an ill-starred time. The reign 
of tyranny is but just begun. Every Netherlander 
will soon be deprived of all just rights, and even to 
hold up one’s head fearlessly will soon be accounted 
a crime. Now, Conrad, give us the latest report 
from Brussels,” he added, as they sat down to sup- 
per. 

“ All hope of justice or mercy from the King is 


6o 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


now over/’ said the young advocate sternly. The 
decrees of the Council of Trent are to be rigidly 
enforced, and the inquisitors are to be confirmed in 
their authority. In spite of all this, heresy contin- 
ues to spread. The scaffold has its daily victims, 
but it fails to make a single convert. The truth is 
imported with every bale of merchandise. Bigotry 
or cruelty cannot devise a quarantine which will 
effectually exclude the religious germs, which are 
wafted to the Netherlands on every breeze. The 
terror and wrath of the people has reached a crisis. 
There is but one topic of shuddering conversation, 
and that is the Edicts and the Inquisition. The 
movement of the nobles is hailed with universal de- 
light.” 

“ Does the Prince of Orange favor the federa- 
tion of nobles? ” inquired Dr. Chenoweth. 

“ I am sorry to say he regards it with distrust.’ 
When he learned of it he made the remark, ' The 
curtain has opened upon a great tragedy.’ He 
thinks the action of the nobles savors too much of 
open rebellion.” 

'' Is it rebellion to insist that the King shall keep 
his sacred pledges, and to preserve the charters of 
a people which are older than the titles of his royal 
house? ” asked Hilvardine with flushed cheeks and 
sparkling eyes. 

I think not,” replied the young advocate. ‘‘ If 
all appeals to the King’s clemency have proved 


THE BURGOMASTER’S DAUGHTER 6i 


fruitless, we will make an appeal to the manhood of 
the Netherlands, and I am confident we shall elicit 
such a reply as will make the bigot tremble on his 
throne.” 

The girl flashed a glance at the young man, 
which fairly bewildered him with its sweetness. 

“ I think the Prince is wise in his caution,” said 
Dr. Chenoweth. “ Pie is a sagacious statesman, 
and I have implicit faith in his judgment.” 

The Prince’s brother, Louis of Nassau, is with 
the nobles, as well as Count Mansfeldt and St. Al- 
degonde,” continued the advocate. ‘‘ The Prince 
of Orange has shown his colors, however. At the 
last meeting of the State Council he resigned his 
seat in that august body because he could not 
countenance the violent measures which were 
adopted.” 

God be praised for this! ” said Dr. Chenoweth. 

The Prince of Orange is the one hope of this per- 
secuted country, the one man among the many 
who can successfully mediate between the govern- 
ment and the people — between Catholics, and Prot- 
estants. I wish, my son, that you could have wit- 
nessed his triumphal entry into Antwerp. No 
monarch was ever awaited with such feverish im- 
patience. Tens of thousands of citizens lined the 
streets for several miles outside the city to welcome 
him. When he came in sight the people pressed 
about him like perplexed children to a parent, call- 


62 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


ing him ' Father William! Our Deliverer! Our 
Protector! ’ The Prince looked anxious and dis- 
tressed, and made no response to the rapturous 
shouts of welcome.” 

“ My father,” said Hilvardine, '' rode beside the 
Prince, and he said His Excellency spoke but once, 
and that was when the watchword of the confed^ 
erate nobles, ‘ Vivent les Gueulx,’ was raised. 
' This idle cry,’ said the Prince, 'must be stopped. 
I cannot have it. The people will rue it some 
day!’” 

“ I think the wonderful power and magnetism of 
the Prince,” said Madam Chenoweth, " was sig- 
nally shown in the way he controlled that enthu- 
siastic crowd. When they saw that he was not fond 
of noisy demonstration they quietly dispersed and 
went to their homes. Still it seems to me, after all, 
that we are relying altogether too much on the in- 
fluence of one man, and that man not even a pub- 
licly avowed Protestant.” 

“ Do you not remember, wife,” said the doctor, 
" that God saved the children of Israel, not through 
a committee, but by a man? The Netherlanders will 
never be delivered from their troubles by means of 
a confederation of nobles, or by a synod of reformed 
pastors, but by a man. I firmly believe that Wil- 
liam of Orange is the man God has selected for this 
purpose. Let us pray that the nation may recog- 
nize their leader, and submit to his guidance.” 


THE BURGOMASTER’S DAUGHTER 63 

Just at this moment Hilvardine gave a low cry. 
“ A face at the window! ” she gasped. “ I certainly 
saw two burning eyes watching our every move- 
ment.” 

Conrad Chenoweth went to the window and 
looked out. It was a cloudless night. A soft, white 
radiance suffused the eastern sky. Presently the 
moon appeared on the horizon, first a point, then 
a rim of silver, and finally the gibbous disk lifted 
itself above the sky-line, and long shadows lay 
across the yard and the surrounding grounds. 
There was no person to be seen. 

Hilvardine, you have been the victim of a 
strange hallucination,” said the young man as he 
returned to the table. “ Everything is quiet out- 
side, and there is no one to be seen.” 

“ I presume you are right,” said Hilvardine with 
a forced smile. So much talk about the Inquisi- 
tion has evidently made me nervous.” 

The subject was dismissed, and the family ad- 
journed to the sitting-room. 

Had Conrad watched long enough he might 
have seen a shadow creeping stealthily from beside 
the garden wall, and, flitting across the road, dis- 
appear in the wood beyond. 

The slouching gait and distorted figure were 
those of Maurits the groom. 


CHAPTER VIL 


THE burgomaster’s REBUFF. 

Your father will be placed in an embarrassing 
condition if the execution of the Edicts is rigor- 
ously enforced,” said Conrad to his companion, as 
they walked slowly through the deserted streets to 
the Burgomaster’s house. The fact that his wife 
and children are Protestants ties his hands.” 

“ You are right,” said Hilvardine. “ Father will 
probably continue to expostulate and threaten, and 
then end by doing nothing. Protestantism in Ant- 
werp is too strong an element to be coerced, and 
you know the Prince is a lenient master.” 

What do you hear from Colonel Van Straa- 
len? ” inquired Conrad. 

I received a letter from my brother only a few 
days ago. He is still stationed on the French fron- 
tier, and there is no prospect of his coming home at 
present. He complains that he has not heard from 
us for some time, yet I have written regularly to 
him and have kept him informed of the condition 
of affairs in the Netherlands.” 

“ It is not strange, in these unsettled times, that 

64 


THE BURGOMASTER’S REBUFF 65 

letters miscarry. I also had a letter from the Col- 
onel about a month ago, in which he desired me to 
render legal assistance to Madame La Tour and her 
daughter. These ladies have fallen heirs to a hand- 
some property, through the death of a relative in 
Amsterdam, and they have come to Brussels tO' es- 
tablish their claims. Madame and her daughter are 
relatives of yours, are they not? ” 

‘‘ They are cousins, several times removed. 
Monsieur La Tour, a French Huguenot, married 
my father’s second cousin. I have not seen them 
for many years, for they resided in France. I al- 
ways fancied that my brother had more than a 
cousinly regard for Katharine La Tour. But I 
think I have been mistaken. I have been told by 
those wiser than myself that a man’s heart is like a 
ship, which is ever prone to slip its moorings.” 
Hilvardine looked archly at her companion. 

“ Mejufifrouw,” said the young advocate earn- 
estly, “ you have been poorly advised. I beg of 
you to listen to a truthful argument on the subject. 
There are some men who possess faithful hearts. 
Mine, for instance, has long since left my keeping 
and is, I assure you, stoutly anchored. Can you not 
divine my meaning. Mistress Van Straalen? ” 

“ I was ever a poor hand at guessing riddles, 
Heer Chenoweth.” 

Conrad took her hand and exclaimed, Hilvar- 
dine, look at me! ” 


66 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


The girl did as she was bidden, and she saw a 
light shining in his eyes which even a duller woman 
could not have failed to comprehend. 

“ Hilvardine, I love you. My heart is all yours. 
For your sake I would lose all, save honor. Will 
you make me happy, or will you send me hence in 
heaviness of spirit? ” 

They had now reached the Burgomaster’s house, 
and just as Conrad waited for a reply to his im- 
portant question, the front door opened and the re- 
pulsive face and stunted figure of a man sixty years 
old appeared. Ugly-looking people sometimes 
affect great display in their dress. This was true 
of the man descending the steps. 

He was gorgeously attired in trousers of puce 
velvet, fastened above the knee with bows of. rib- 
bon. He wore a tight-fitting jacket with sleeves 
slashed with white satin. A jaunty black court 
mantle lined with the same delicate color hung 
loosely from his shoulders, and was confined in 
front by a buckle composed of jewels, which royalty 
itself might have envied. 

Conrad immediately recognized the man as the 
Chancellor of Brabant, Engelbert Maas. The 
Chancellor lifted his hat courteously to the Burgo- 
master’s daughter, but stared insolently at her es- 
cort. After a momentary hesitation he walked 
away. 

The change in Hilvardine at the sight of this 


THE BURGOMASTER’S REBUFF 67 


great magistrate was remarkable. She clutched her 
companion’s arm and said piteously: 

“ Save me, Heer Chenoweth. I think my father 
favors that man’s suit.” 

All coquetry was gone from the girl’s manner. 
Her face in its evident anxiety was womanly and 
tender. There was a lurking wistfulness in the 
brown eyes which touched the young man. 

Hilvardine, do you love me? May I ask your 
father this very night for your hand? ” 

The maiden was the picture of sweet confusion, 
and her answer was very faint, but it was eminently 
satisfactory to her companion. They passed up the 
steps into the house and Hilvardine fled precipi- 
tately to her room. 

Mynheer Chenoweth! ” announced a servant in 
rich livery as he opened the door of the handsome 
reception-room, in which sat the Burgomaster, 
Anthony Van Straalen, and his wife. There was a 
disturbed expression on Mistress Van Straalen’s 
face, and her husband wore a look of dogged reso- 
lution. It was evident that there had been a family 
difference, and the atmosphere of the room was still 
murky from the war of words. 

The Burgomaster greeted the young advocate 
with distant politeness, but his wife gave him a cor- 
dial welcome. 

After a few commonplace remarks, Conrad made 
known the object of his visit. 


68 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Heer Burgomaster, I have Mistress Hilvar- 
dine’s consent to ask you for her hand in marriage. 
Will you give her to me? ” 

The Burgomaster uttered an oath. ^'No!” he 
roared. ‘‘A hundred times no! This, sir, is a 
pretty piece of impertinence — first to steal my 
daughter’s affections, and then to ask her father for 
her hand. I have a better match in mind for my 
daughter than you. Master Chenoweth.” 

The hot blood surged into the young advocate’s 
face as he replied: There is just as good blood in 
my veins as in yours, Heer Burgomaster. To be 
sure, I have not as much money as you have, but 
youth and health are mine, and I am in a fair way 
to amass a fortune.” 

“ The marriage settlement would doubtless fur- 
nish you an excellent basis on which to build your 
air-castles,” said the magistrate with cutting irony. 

I do not care for a ryksdaaler of your daugh- 
ter’s dowry,” said the young advocate passionately. 

Give me Hilvardine and keep your gold. Nature 
has amply furnished her with a dowry, which is all 
that any man could ask or desire.” 

‘‘Well, Master Chenoweth, you cannot have my 
daughter, and that ends the whole matter. She is 
already promised to another.” 

“ Our daughter’s wishes in the matter ought to 
be respected, Anthony,” said Mistress Van Straalen 
in pleading tones. “ Surely, husband, we could not 


THE BURGOMASTER’S REBUFF 69 

ask for a more worthy young man than the son of 
our neighbor, Dr. Chenoweth.” 

“A fig for Hilvardine’s wishes! Forsooth, did 
you ever know a maid of eighteen who knew her 
own mind? The child is not old enough to settle 
so grave a question. It is for her parents to judge 
for her, and, as I remarked before, the girl is prom- 
ised.” 

Then there is no more to be said about the mat- 
ter at present,” replied the young advocate, rising 
and bowing himself out of the room. 

Like one dazed he went down the stone steps 
and out upon the street, his thoughts revolving 
about the Burgomaster’s closing words, “ The 
maid is promised to another.” 

‘‘To whom?” was the question that tortured 
him. Conrad had not long to wait for an answer 
to his query. Footsteps sounded behind him. Con- 
rad quickened his pace, and so did his pursuer. 
Wheeling about suddenly, he confronted Chancel- 
lor Maas. So enraged was the young man at the 
sight of his successful rival, that he turned his back 
upon the magistrate without a sign of recognition 
and hurried swiftly forward. The magistrate again 
pursued, and gaining upon the advocate, laid a de- 
taining hand upon his shoulder. 

“ What were you doing at the Burgomaster’s 
house? ” he demanded insolently. 


70 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


‘‘ My business was with the Burgomaster, and 
what that business was is none of your concern/' 

I will not be trifled with, Master Chenoweth. 
Tell me what business you had at the Burgomas- 
ter’s house.” 

‘‘ I shall not tell you. Good evening.” 

‘‘ Do you think I don’t know why you are hang- 
ing about that house? You think you are going 
to win Mistress Hilvardine. But you are mistaken. 
She is promised to me, and if you value your liberty 
you will cease your visits in that quarter.” The 
magistrate turned on his heel and walked rapidly in 
the opposite direction. 

With anger and sorrow filling his heart, Conrad, 
neared his father’s house. Pale mists were stealing 
up from the river. A crescent moon was sinking 
in the west. Lights streamed here and there from 
the anchored barges. Antwerp under the starlit 
sky was as quiet and full of peace as if there were 
no disturbing elements of love or discord in the 
world. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF. 

After Conrad Chenoweth’s departure, the Bur- 
gomaster summoned his daughter to his presence. 

“ Hilvardine,” he said abruptly, “ I have prom- 
ised your hand to the Chancellor of Brabant, En- 
gelbert Maas. We settled the marriage contract 
this evening.” 

“ Oh, father! ” cried Hilvardine, “ do not force 
me into a union which is so hateful to me. I had 
rather be torn into pieces than wed this man.” 

‘‘And why, forsooth?” said the Burgomaster 
impatiently. “ You have got to marry some one, 
and I have seen to it that you are provided with a 
husband who is old enough and rich enough to take 
care of you handsomely. To be sure, I like not the 
Chancellor overmuch myself. He drinks hard and 
he spends his money too freely at the gaming-table, 
yet there are scores of women who would dance for 
joy had he chosen them instead of you. The social 
position of the wife of the Chancellor of Brabant 
is unquestioned. And besides all else, the man is 

71 


72 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


madly in love with you and will not relinquish his 
claim for the caprice of a silly girl.” 

“ His devotion smacks of senility,” said Madam 
Van Straalen sharply. 

“ Madam,” said the Burgomaster, I bid you 
keep silence. At least I will be master in my own 
house. Come, daughter, what are your objections 
to the Chancellor? ” 

'' He is so — so — old and so ugly,” sobbed the 
girl. “ I would sooner have his hatred than his 
love, and either one would be held by me in con- 
tempt.” 

That shows just what a simple wench you are,” 
said her father angrily. “ Know you not, girl, that 
these are times when it is necessary to have power- 
ful friends? With my wife and children avowed 
Protestants, I do not know how long I shall be able 
to stem the tide of opposition. With the friend- 
ship of such a man as Chancellor Maas, we shall 
be raised above suspicion and protected against the 
fury of the Regent. In a time of peril like this, your 
feelings, girl, are of minor importance. Go to now 
and behave like a dutiful child, and forget the idle 
words of that tricky fortune-hunter, Conrad Cheno- 
weth.” 

“ Your insinuations are false, and you know it. 
Conrad is no fortune-hunter.” Hilvardine lifted 
her head proudly and confronted her father, with a 
look in her large brown eyes which made him 


A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF 73 

wince. “ The young advocate is an honest man, of 
whose love any woman might be proud. If I am to 
be sold like a chattel, God help me! But I will 
guarantee the Chancellor one thing: his purchase 
shall bring him only misery and pain, for I will be a 
thorn in his side and a curse to his peace. 

“ There is no doubt about that,” replied her 
father. You have a sharp tongue, and you know 
full well how to use it. I do not envy the Chan- 
cellor his prize, but he is bound to have you at any 
cost, and there is no doubt but that he loves you.” 

Courageous as Hilvardine Van Straalen was, she 
dared make no further remonstrance. The maidens 
of the sixteenth century were well trained in the 
duty of obedience to parents. After obedience, 
they were taught to respect the authority of man, 
and were enjoined to silent submission to his supe- 
rior judgment. 

Conrad Chenoweth was not able to see Hilvar- 
dine again before his return to Brussels. He went 
to the Burgomaster’s house, but Madam Van Straa- 
len told him that her daughter had been forbidden 
to see the young advocate. 

Keep up a brave heart. Master Chenoweth,” 
she said. “ I am your friend and I fully sympa- 
thize with you and with my daughter. Perhaps I 
may be able to remove the Burgomaster’s preju- 
dices. He has a good heart and truly loves his 
daughter, but these perilous times have frightened 


74 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


him, and he seeks a powerful protector for his fam- 
ily” 

“ It is a fearful price to pay for safety,” replied 
Conrad with set teeth. “To think of that pure 
young girl mated with that vile debauchee. Angels 
might well weep at such a terrible sacrifice! ” 

Madam Van Straalen delivered to the young 
man a parcel which Hilvardine had sent him. He 
could hardly wait until he reached home before he 
untied the precious bundle. It contained a beau- 
tifully embroidered kerchief, wrought in rich or- 
ange and blue silks. The orange symbolized the 
Fatherland, while the blue of the heavens was the 
color adopted by the Dutch Calvinists. Within the- 
folds of the kerchief Conrad found a slip of paper 
on which was inscribed a stanza of a popular song: 

“ Will you have a pink knot? 

Is it blue you prize ? 

One is like a fresh rose, 

One is like the skies; 

No, the maid of Holland 
For her own true love. 

Ties the splendid orange, 

Orange still above !” 

The morning for Conrad’s departure from Ant- 
werp he awoke with a heavy heart. He saw not the 
glory of the rising sun. He saw nothing poetic 
about the flash of the distant cathedral spires 
against the roseate clouds, and his ears heard no 
sweetness in the cooing of the gray doves as they 


A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF 75 


circled around the huge chimneys. The years 
which stretched out before him seemed barren and 
lonely. He had come home feeling confident that 
he should win Hilvardine for his wife. Her shy 
glances, and the apparent cordial relations between 
the Burgomaster’s family and his own, argued well 
for his success. But another and powerful rival 
had stepped in and borne away the prize. He had 
built upon the sand, and the incoming tide had 
made flotsam and jetsam of his castle. But Conrad 
Chenoweth was a man and a Christian. Shaking 
himself free from these melancholy reflections, he 
arose, and said bravely to himself: 

‘‘ Because the dearest wish of my heart has not 
been realized, I will not become like driftwood 
upon the sea. God is good. He will never permit 
this monstrous sacrifice. Hilvardine is in his care. 
I will trust God for the future, and go forward and 
do my duty.” 

When the morning sun rose again, it found the 
young advocate at his post in Brussels. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A GAME OF CHESS. 

Monseigneur Ryder was a busy man, but he al- 
lowed himself one relaxation — an occasional game 
of chess. One evening he stepped into the private 
office of the Chancellor of Brabant, to indulge in 
his favorite pastime. It was only a few squares 
from the cathedral buildings, where the prelate re- 
sided, to the home of the magistrate. 

The latter welcomed his guest with apparent 
cordiality. The two men formed a striking con- 
trast as they sat opposite each other. The Chancel- 
lor was a repulsive personality to gaze upon, with 
his pointed head, and his face with its expression of 
low cunning, his red eyes, and stooping, under- 
sized figure. There was tremendous intellectual 
power suggested by the physiognomy of the 
churchman, with his regular features, full dark 
eyes, and massive head. His tall and elegantly- 
proportioned figure was in harmony with the rest 
of the man. 

‘‘ You are welcome, Monseigneur, very wel- 
come!” said the Chancellor. “I have had pre- 

76 


A GAME OF CHESS 


77 

sented to me recently a memorial, about which I 
should like your advice.” 

“I am weary,” replied the Superior. ‘^Let us 
have a game first, to rest our brains.” 

“ Many persons consider chess work instead of 
play, and hard work at that,” said his companion. 

“ Heer Chancellor,” said the prelate, few peo- 
ple know what hard work is.” 

And the Jesuit spoke advisedly. The Order 
which he represented, and to which he devoted his 
activities, was tireless in its labors. Jesuitism was 
the working out of a detailed program. To the 
faithful Catholic the Church was everything, but to 
the sincere Jesuit, everything must bend to his Or- 
der. For the carrying out of this principle, it was 
the conceived duty of every Jesuit to sweep every 
obstacle from his path, if that obstacle stood in the 
way of the ultimate success of the Order. 

The game proceeded for a time in silence. 

“ Check! ” said Monseigneur Ryder. 

“ The King is in trouble. Let us bring a knight 
to his relief,” remarked the Chancellor. 

“Check again!” said the Superior, taking the 
knight with a pawn. 

“ Let us bring out her Highness and see if she 
can assist the King,” said the magistrate, moving 
his queen. 

“ Checkmate! ” said the Superior, following this 
move of the enemy with the bishop. “ The Church 


78 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


triumphs now and evermore! ” and Monseigneur 
smiled with complacency. 

“ Thanks, Father, for the lesson you have just 
given me in strategy. I wish the heretics in the 
Netherlands could be as easily disposed of as these 
counterfeit kings, queens, knights and pawns,” he 
continued, as he dropped the ivory pieces into a 
box. 

“ No one can stay the march of time or the power 
of the Church,” said the Superior. “ Either the 
heretics must return to the fold of the Church, or 
they will be crushed. By the way, what was that 
memorial of which you spoke? ” 

“ It was a document from the advocate Cheno- 
weth, setting forth the claims of a certain Madame 
La Tour and her daughter.” 

“ I received a similar petition in my ecclesiastical 
capacity,” said the Superior. “ The facts in the 
case are these: Madame La Tour was a Catholic, 
but against the tenets of the Church married a 
French Huguenot. They had one child, whom, it 
is supposed, her mother reared in the Catholic faith. 
During the persecution of the Huguenots, the es- 
tates of Monsieur La Tour were confiscated, and 
after the death of her husband, Madame and her 
daughter were reduced to poverty.” 

“ But why was such severity allowed, if mother 
and daughter were staunch Catholics? ” inquired 
the Chancellor. 


A GAME OF CHESS 


79 


‘‘ Because it was fitting that Madame should be 
punished for not converting her husband to the true 
faith, instead of living with him in perfect content- 
ment until his death.” 

‘‘ How much property is involved? ” asked the 
magistrate. 

A half million riksdalers, I believe. Madame 
La Tour has a near relative living in Amsterdam, 
who has recently died and bequeathed his property 
to her and the daughter. They evidently sought 
the advice of Chenoweth, in order to establish their 
claims.” 

I wonder why they selected that young man, in 
preference to older and more noted counsel? ” said 
the Chancellor. 

“ It is a sort of family matter,” replied Monsei- 
gneur Ryder. My position, as you know, enables 
me to obtain much information of a private char- 
acter. Mademoiselle La Tour formed an attach- 
ment for Colonel Van Straalen in her childhood, 
which attachment I understand was ardently re- 
turned. This latter individual wrote to his intimate 
friend, Conrad Chenoweth, (who, by the way, is a 
lover of the Burgomaster’s daughter,) and prayed 
him to use his influence with the authorities and 
help the plaintiff to secure her estates. I should 
like to have these schemes succeed in part and fail 
in part; that is to say, I want the money secured 


8o 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


to the daughter and then handed over to the 
Church.” 

“ The game of that rascally' Chenoweth shall fail, 
if I can compass it,” snarled the Chancellor with a 
painful sort of a smile, which had a sneer in it. 

The pretty face of the Burgomaster’s daughter 
is working mischief in more quarters than one,” re- 
marked the Superior with a significant look. 

“ Monseigneur is witty,” said the Chancellor 
stiffly. ‘‘Your reverence takes his recreation in 
chess. I do myself the honor of being in love.” 

“ Every man to his liking,” said the churchman. 
“ But we have digressed from the subject. I was 
about to unfold to you my plan in reference to these 
worthy ladies. While their suit is pending before 
the ecclesiastical authorities, I shall invite them .to 
take up their residence as guests of the Convent of 
the Sacred Heart. The mother will be allowed to 
leave this retreat as soon as we are convinced that 
all heretical notions imbibed from her husband have 
been uprooted. The daughter will be persuaded 
to take the veil— willingly if we can bring it about, 
by compulsion if necessary. We shall accomplish 
two things by this procedure: we shall save a soul, 
and add to the depleted treasuries of the Church.” 

The Chancellor looked with admiration upon the 
Jesuit. “ You have a subtle brain. Father, and you 
have solved the riddle with your accustomed wis- 
dom. But one other point occurs to me: accord- 


A GAME OF CHESS 


8i 


ing to an established law, a child born of parents, 
one Catholic and the other Protestant, is not con- 
sidered legitimate. If this girl is not legitimated 
by law this snug little fortune would revert to the 
State. Why should not the government profit as 
well as the Church? ” 

The Superior regarded his companion with a 
look of pitying contempt. 

Do you not see that there is a serious flaw in 
your reasoning? Madame La Tour is a Catholic. 
If we ignore her claims entirely, this will afford her 
a fitting excuse for joining the heretics. If she 
should do this, the commissioners in Amsterdam, 
who have the will in charge, will dispose of the 
property otherwise, and neither Church nor State 
will profit thereby. If my plan is adhered to, you 
may rest assured that your services will be amply 
compensated. The Church never fails to reward 
her loyal children.” 

“ As you wish. Father. I am willing to let the 
matter proceed as you have stated. I only hope 
you will not meet with opposition.” 

“ I am used tO' opposition,” replied the Jesuit, 
“ but our resources are infinite. I have yet to meet 
the man or woman who has been subjected to the 
discipline of our Order who could not by some 
means be reduced to submission. My success is 
foreordained.” 

“ There is one other matter. Monseigneur, about 


82 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


which I should like to speak. I wish you would 
send a Jesuit, in whom you can trust, to spy upon 
the movements of Dr. John Chenoweth of Ant- 
werp. I have reasons for desiring a complaint to 
be lodged against him to the authorities in that 
city. It will not answer for me to place a check 
upon that rascally advocate, Conrad Chenoweth, 
for he is under the powerful protection of William 
of Orange.” 

How about the Burgomaster, Van Straalen? ” 
said the Superior, with a touch of sarcasm. “ He 
certainly should be under surveillance. He does 
not enforce the Edicts as he ought. Or perhaps 
you will sacrifice a principle for the sake of your 
mistress? ” 

‘^You Jesuits know everything,” replied the 
Chancellor, in some confusion. Yes, it is true that 
for the sake of Hilvardine Van Straalen I should 
like to let that family slip along as easily as possi- 
ble.” 

“You are inconsistent, my friend,” said Mon- 
seigneur. “You spare one heretic and condemn 
another in the same breath. Remember the motto 
of your office: ‘ Fiat justitia, ruat coelum.’ ” 

Then, as though the words were pleasant to his 
ears, he repeated them in sonorous tones: “Let 
justice be done, though the heavens fall! ” 


CHAPTER X. 


A PRINCE OF THE CHURCH. 

The hour grows late, Heer Chancellor. I will 
bid you good evening, as I have still other business 
to attend to before I sleep.” Raising his hand in 
benediction the Superior retired. 

The buildings appointed for the brethren of the 
Order of Jesus lay in the rear of the cathedral. 
They were imposing in construction, and planned 
with due attention to both beauty and comfort. 
Extensive grounds, artistically designed, sur» 
rounded the buildings and were enclosed by a high 
brick wall, the gates of which were kept locked. 
The Superior fitted a key to the lock and entered 
the grounds. He passed up the neatly gravelled 
walk without encountering any one, and entered 
the door leading to the library. The walls on three 
sides of the room were covered with massive oak 
bookcases which were filled with books, some of 
them of priceless value. On an exquisitely inlaid 
table was a costly missal, beautifully illuminated, 
and besides this was a rosary studded with precious 
stones, which caught and reflected the rays of light 

83 


84 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


which fell from a silver lamp suspended from the 
ceiling. A marble bust of Christ, sculptured in 
bas-relief, filled a niche in the corner of the room, 
while on the walls were the masterpieces of Rubens, 
‘‘ The Descent from the Cross ” and “ The Adora- 
tion of the Magi.’’ 

The Jesuit did not linger to read or pray, but 
walked toward that portion of the wall which was 
devoid of ornamentation, but which in other re- 
spects seemed no different from the other walls. 
Touching a secret spring, a door opened, revealing 
a small apartment beyond, which the priest entered. 
It was a beautiful room, fitted up with all the lux- 
ury known to this age. The Regent herself did not 
occupy a more elegantly appointed room. Aside 
from the rich tapestries and antique furniture, the 
walls were literally covered with costly paintings. 
The Superior was a passionate admirer of beauty 
in all its manifold forms. He compensated in a 
measure for his outward life of asceticism, and satis- 
fied the cravings of his nature with these rare paint- 
ings, which were the companions of his solitude. 
There were pictures of beautiful women that 
smiled on the priest from the canvas, without co- 
quetry or caprice. A connoisseur of art, the Supe- 
rior had selected those gems which had caught the 
reflection of every type of loveliness embodied in 
the female face and form. There were several pict- 
ures of the Madonna of rare merit, with the sweet 


A PRINCE OF THE CHURCH 


85 


though sensuous beauty which most of the old 
masters have given to that well known face. Paint- 
ings representing the beautiful women of the Bible 
hung upon the walls. There were Ruth, Esther, 
Miriam, Jephtha’s daughter, and Mary Magdalene. 

The critical eye of the priest surveyed these still 
representatives of a warm, passionate life with the 
keenest satisfaction. Just at this moment a clock 
on the cathedral chimed the hour of midnight. The 
music of that magnificent mass from the Stabat 
Mater, intoned by a choir of carefully trained 
voices, floated on the evening air. After the last 
harmonious chord had died away the Superior laid 
aside the heavy serge garment in which he was 
attired and assumed a loose flowing robe of the 
finest silk. Then a lay brother appeared, bearing 
on a silver tray a daintily prepared luncheon, served 
on the finest of linen and the rarest of china. The 
Jesuit partook of these viands with the relish of 
an epicure, and sipped his choice wine with a clear 
conscience. As a high dignitary of the Church, he 
had derived a perpetual indulgence from the Pope, 
and he was privileged to enjoy every pleasure which 
his rank afforded him, provided that the outward 
decorum of the Church was not violated. 

Touching a bell, an attendant appeared to re- 
move the tray. 

‘‘Send Father Steen to me!” said the Jesuit 
peremptorily. 


86 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


With a humble obeisance the lay brother de- 
parted to do his bidding. 

In a few moments the gaunt form of Father 
Steen appeared in the doorway. 

I have an important mission to entrust to you/^ 
said the Superior. “ Be prepared to start for Ant- 
werp by daybreak.” 

The priest bowed. 

“ You are to watch carefully the movements of 
two families — that of the Burgomaster, Anthony 
Van Straalen, and that of Dr. John Chenoweth.” 

At the mention of the doctor’s name the priest 
started as if stung, and beads of perspiration came 
out on his brow. He wiped them away, and his lips 
twitched nervously as though he were about to 
speak. 

The Superior watched him with a quiet smile. 

‘‘ You seem disturbed. Father Steen, by this com- 
mand. Why? ” 

‘‘ You know why, your reverence. You are ask- 
ing me to walk into temptation, to watch the 
actions of the woman I lo — once loved,” corrected 
the priest, catching his words just in time. 

A curious look hovered in the Superior’s eyes. 

“ How long is it since you have seen your old 
sweetheart? ” he inquired contemptuously. 

“ Twenty years.” 

“ The best medicine I can recommend for you, 
Steen, is to go and see Madam Chenoweth — and 


A PRINCE OF THE CHURCH 


87 


be cured of your folly. Twenty years! Why, man, 
you left her a blooming girl. She is now a middle- 
aged woman, probably sour, disappointed, ugly. 
This is the concise history of most married women.” 

Your reverence,” said the priest passionately, 
you have never been in love.” 

“ By the mass, I trust not! I have been gra- 
ciously spared that folly.” 

“Why folly?” demanded his companion. 

“ The confessional should answer that question 
for you. I have heard enough of these family his- 
tories in my day to make me a firm believer in 
celibacy. And as for beauty, just look about you! ” 
and the Superior waved his hand toward the lovely 
faces on the wall, that seemed, in the dim light of 
the silver lamp, to take on the semblance of life. 
“ I have seen scores of just as beautiful women, but 
never yet have I regretted my vow of celibacy.” 

“ You are a cynic! ” retorted Father Steen. 

“A cynic? Yes, perhaps! Every student of that 
elusive, disturbing quantity commonly known as 
woman is bound to be a cynic.” 

The Superior smiled indulgently. “ Father 
Steen, you are the onlv man in this house that I 
would allow to stand and argue with me. But you 
are a good man and a valuable man. I am sorry 
that you dislike your mission, but it must be per- 
formed nevertheless, and in your accustomed skil- 
ful manner.” 


88 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Father Steen could not resist the powerful per- 
sonality of the Superior, strive though he might. 
The passionate look which for a few moments had 
changed the whole expression of his face disap- 
peared, and his features resumed their accustomed 
impassive look. He was once more a Jesuit. 

“ I obey, your reverence.” 

“ That is all,” said the Superior. Report to me 
at your earliest convenience. You may retire.” 

With a slight inclination of the head the priest 
withdrew. 

Monseigneur Ryder’s power lay in his ability to 
sway and mould the actions of those with whom he 
associated. The secret of the power of the Order 
of Jesus was not altogether in its system, but in the 
selection of leaders. From the time of Loyola to 
the present time the Jesuits have been signally for- 
tunate in their choice of leaders. A man like Father 
Ryder, by the force of a strong intellectual per- 
sonality, gave life and vigor to a set of rules which 
would have been as nothing without this vivifying 
influence. 

For some time the Superior sat in his luxurious 
room reviewing the events of the evening. 

So the Chancellor thinks it doubtful if I per- 
suade Mademoiselle La Tour to enter the convent 
and take the veil,” he soliloquized. At length he 
laughed softly. He was recalling the look of dis- 
gust on the magistrate’s face when he lost the game 


A PRINCE OF THE CHURCH 89 

of chess. “ Thus easily will I remove all the obsta- 
cles from my path/’ said the Jesuit with a look of 
conscious power. “ I will dispose my pieces with 
the greatest circumspection. I will advance the 
pawns, defend the king, and make ready for the 
final checkmate. The game is mine! ” 

Little did the Superior dream that a woman’s 
frail hand would overturn that chessboard and scat- 
ter the pieces to the four winds! How should he 
know that the game would be recast on entirely 
different lines, and that he, Monseigneur Ryder, 
was destined to suffer an ignominious defeat! 


CHAPTER XL 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 

In a quiet, unpretentious street in the poorer 
part of Brussels there was a cheap boarding-house, 
in which Madame La Tour and her daughter had 
taken rooms while their suit was pending. That 
these ladies were in strained circumstances was 
evidenced by their humble surroundings. 

They were seated late one morning at the break- 
fast table, which was scantily furnished with the 
cheapest viands. 

Madame La Tour turned froni her cup of weak 
chocolate with a look of ill-concealed disgust. 

“ Katharine, I cannot endure this suspense much 
longer. Do you not suppose our case will be de- 
cided upon before long? ” 

I expect we shall have to wait patiently as best 
we can, mother. You know Heer Chenoweth said 
that investigations were being made which would 
occupy some time.’’ 

“ I think we had better employ another advo- 
cate,” said Madame fretfully. Heer Chenoweth 
recommended our doing so on account of his hav- 

90 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 


91 


ing incurred the Chancellor’s displeasure. If we do 
not hear anything definite to-day, I shall be in favor 
of trying other means.” 

Do nothing rash, I entreat you,” replied the 
daughter. ‘‘ Heer Chenoweth will leave no stone 
unturned to secure for us our just rights. I have 
full confidence in his ability.” 

‘‘Why so?” demanded Madame. “ The advocate 
is an entire stranger to us. Why should he care 
whether two obscure women received justice? ” 

A flush mantled the girl’s cheek, v.^hich the elder 
lady was not slow to observe. “ Ah, I see. It is 
because Heer Chenoweth is Colonel Van Straalen’s 
friend that you regard him with such favor. Have 
you not forgotten that childish attachment? ” 

“ I shall never forget what a kind, noble friend 
Colonel Van Straalen was to us,” said Katharine. 

“ It is more than likely that he has forgotten you 
by this time. At least I hope he has. How long is 
it since you heard from him? ” 

“ More than a year. But it is possible that his 
letters miscarried.” 

“ I do not believe it. For my sake, Katharine, 
do not let this unfortunate attachment of yours be 
known. If it were even suspected we should lose 
all hope of gaining that fortune. Colonel Van 
Straalen is a Protestant. The mere fact that you 
were interested in an enemy of the Church would 
ruin our case. I beg you to be prudent.” 


92 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Katharine La Tour looked at the wan, distressed 
face of her mother with pitying eyes. 

Of course I shall be discreet, mother. I am a 
nominal Catholic, and I have seen too much misery 
arising from marriages where the contracting 
parties were of different faiths to care to add to the 
number.” 

The law forbidding marriage between Catholics 
and Protestants is more rigorously enforced than 
it was when I married your father,”, said Madame. 

What troublous times I have lived through! And 
yet, although I had a Huguenot husband, and loved 
him devotedly, I remained true to the Church. I 
might just as well have turned Protestant for all the 
good it has done me. The Catholics have turned 
the cold shoulder to me, and I have spent the few 
hundred francs which were all that were saved from 
your father’s estate in prosecuting a claim which is 
more than likely to be denied.” 

‘‘ Be careful, mother. I fear your words may be 
overheard. For all that we know, we may be sur- 
rounded by spies.” 

“ But what will become of us, Katharine, if the 
law refuses to legitimate you? We have no home 
and no resources.” 

These words were evidently a revelation to the 
girl. She flushed painfully. Legitimate me, did 
you say, the child of Christian parents? Why, the 
marriage ceremony was performed by a noble Prot- 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 


93 


estant pastor, who was good enough, you have said, 
to be the successor of St. Peter. Then the rite was 
sanctioned by a priest of our own faith. It seems 
wicked that such a stain should be thrown upon 
our honored name.’’ 

“ If there was the semblance of justice in this 
country, such indignities would not be permitted,” 
said Madame; “ but might makes right in these 
days, and we have no influence with those in power. 
I tell you, daughter, what we will do if we are so 
fortunate as to secure this property. We will emi- 
grate to England, where our rights will be respected 
and where we shall have the privilege of worship- 
ping God without remonstrance. How does this 
plan impress you? ” 

“ I should much rather cross the ocean, and in a 
new country help to found a colony where religious 
controversy and persecution would be unknown.” 

“ And live among Indians and negroes? ” cried 
Madame La Tour. “ You caught that insane idea 
from Colonel Van Straalen, I suspect. You seem 
to regard all his sayings as law and gospel. I am 
very glad he left you when he did, else I am afraid 
he might have converted you to the Protestant 
faith.” 

“ Possibly he would, mother. The trouble with 
me is that I have no settled belief. My father’s ex- 
ample and his precepts ring in my ears, while out- 
wardly I have been taught to conform to the Catho- 


94 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


lie faith. The time is coming when I shall claim the 
privilege of studying the doctrines held by both 
Protestants and Catholics, and of making an un- 
biased choice.” 

“ At least I hope you will postpone your investi- 
gations until after we secure our inheritance,” said 
Madame. 

“ Do not be alarmed, mother. Worldly interest, 
as well as filial affection, are both arrayed on the 
side of the Catholic faith. My inclinations are 
toward that faith also. I enjoy the ritualistic ser- 
vice and the music which are heard in her cathe- 
drals. On the other hand, I truly long to know the 
truth, and I shall seek it prayerfully.” 

The two ladies were so engrossed in their conver- 
sation that they did not hear a light tap on the door. 
They were made aware of the presence of a third 
person by the words, “ Benedicite, my daughters! ” 
The startled ladies looked toward the door, where 
the imposing figure of Monseigneur Ryder greeted 
their eyes. 


CHAPTER XIL 


IN THE SNARE. 

Do not be frightened, ladies. I have come not 
to rebuke you, but to serve you. Allow me to in- 
troduce myself. Among my friends I am known 
as Father Ryder. If my standing among the breth- 
ren is called into question, people salute me as Mon- 
seigneur Ryder, Superior of the House of the 
Jesuits in Brussels. By Madame La Tour and her 
daughter I hope to be addressed as Father Ryder.” 

The Jesuit bowed courteously to the elder lady, 
but his eyes rested longest on the fair face of Kath- 
arine La Tour. The young girl had just budded 
into womanhood, yet the sweet spring air of girl- 
hood hovered about her like the scent of woodland 
violets. Monseigneur Ryder, with his aesthetic 
tastes, was quick to recognize the subtle charm of 
that sensitive, high-bred face. Katharine La Tour 
had inherited from some Saxon ancestor her trans- 
parent complexion and large blue eyes. But it was 
the harmonious blending of dignity and gentleness, 
the modest flushing of the cheek, the candor and 
intelligence that beamed from her clear eyes, which 
constituted her chief charm. The Superior felt 

95 


96 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


more of human emotion than usual, and he gazed 
with considerable attention upon the woman who 
was capable of awakening in his mind more than a 
passing interest. 

Madame La Tour recognized fully, and her 
daughter in part, that somehow their fate rested in 
the hands of this distinguished Jesuit. 

Both ladies arose and made reverent salutations, 
and Madame La Tour bade the Superior to sit 
down. She furthermore expressed her pleasure at 
the honor bestowed upon herself and daughter by 
this visit. 

‘‘ I think, ladies,” said the Superior, “ that you 
cannot be in ignorance of my mission to-day. Be- 
fore the estates to which you have recently fallen 
heir can be legally conveyed to you, it is necessary 
that the Church should be satisfied as to your 
orthodoxy. Of Madame La Tour we have no seri- 
ous doubts, but as to whether her daughter is a 
good Catholic we are not so confident. Has she 
been duly instructed in the Catholic faith, and does 
she profess to be a true believer? ” he inquired of 
Madame. 

Certainly, your reverence. Her father, to be 
sure, was a Huguenot, but continued persecution 
broke his spirit. He did not wish to have his child 
urged to follow a path which led to such direful re- 
sults, and so he permitted me to rear her in my own 
faith.” 


IN THE SNARE 


97 


Your husband showed remarkable leniency for 
one of that accursed sect,” said the Jesuit, with an 
ill-concealed sneer. 

“ My father was everything that was honorable 
and noble,” said Katharine La Tour proudly. 
“ Could you have known him, your reverence, I do 
not think you would have despised him even 
though he was a Huguenot.” 

The expression which animated the young girl’s 
face made her wonderfully attractive. 

“ I admire your loyalty to your father’s mem- 
ory,” said the Jesuit gently. I have no doubt he 
possessed excellent virtues. I only regret that he 
chose to die outside the pale of the Church.” 

‘‘ Is my daughter’s standing as a Catholic ques- 
tioned? ” asked Madame, her thoughts centring 
about the inheritance which meant so much to her. 

“ Frankly, yes. Reports have reached us which 
lead us to doubt her devotion to mother Church.” 

“ But I tell you she is a Catholic,” said Madame, 
irritably. “ Is not the word of a good Catholic 
sufficient to set your doubts to rest? ” 

Madame La Tour, this is no ordinary case. 
There is a large fortune at stake, which must not be 
allowed to go into Protestant hands. It is entirely 
for your own interest and that of your daughter to 
profess orthodoxy and to support your statements 
by an outward observance of the rites and cere- 
monies of the Catholic Church. What we wish to 


98 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


know is whether Mademoiselle is anything more 
than a nominal Catholic.” 

The Superior watched the young lady keenly 
while he was speaking. Quick to read faces and to 
form correct judgments, her look of terror and her 
extreme pallor convinced him that he was on the 
verge of a discovery. Fixing his searching eyes on 
her face, he said: “ My child, tell me frankly what 
is your spiritual condition. I know that you are in- 
capable of either falsehood or deceit.” 

The young girl felt the powerful personality of 
the Superior, and her lips framed almost uncon- 
sciously the statement which he Lad requested her 
to make. 

‘‘Your reverence, you have judged correctly. 
I shall speak only the simple truth.” Then gather- 
ing courage the girl stated her position with dig- 
nity and candor. 

“ I am, your reverence, at heart neither a Catho- 
lic nor a Protestant. The freedom to choose some 
religious belief was left in my hands. My father in- 
sisted that until I arrived at maturity I was not to 
be unduly biased in favor of either the Huguenot 
faith or the Roman Catholic religion. I attended 
mass with my mother and went to confession. My 
confessor was not strict, and he allowed me to come 
up without any definite instruction as to the funda- 
mental beliefs of his faith. I am in the deplorable 
condition of a person who does not know his own 


IN THE SNARE 


99 


mind; but I am desirous of knowing the truth, 
and both my inclinations and my interests favor the 
Catholic religion. If after due study the doctrines 
of your Church satisfy my reason and conscience, I 
shall be only too glad to enter heart and soul into 
the duties and privileges of a devout believer.” 

The Superior felt a thrill of triumph at this reve- 
lation. He now understood the girl’s character 
perfectly, and his line of action became plain. He 
looked his admiration as he said: My child, I 
thank you for your confidence, which has dispelled 
my doubts as to your sincerity. I shall be pleased 
to place in your hands the writings of the greatest 
saints of the Church, and to help you to secure the 
knowledge which your intellect craves. I have no 
doubt but what a few months of careful and prayer- 
ful study will convince you of the infallibility of 
the Roman Catholic Church. Now, Madame La 
Tour, let me unfold to you my plan. There are 
still a few forms and preliminary steps to be at- 
tended to before your claims can be adjusted. The 
consent of the Chancellor of Brabant I obtained 
previous to my visit to you. It only remains for me 
to satisfy the ecclesiastical authorities, and the prop- 
erty is yours. I will advise that both of you ladies 
take up your residence in the Convent of the Sacred 
Heart until these matters are adjusted. Mademoi- 
selle can then receive the instruction she craves, and 
Madame will find the accommodations infinitely 


lOO 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


superior to those she is enduring here. As I wish 
to personally superintend the religious instruction 
which Mademoiselle La Tour receives, it will be 
more convenient for me to have her in charge of the 
Lady Abbess.” 

Can we not remain here just as well? ” faltered 
Madame, who had a wholesome dread of “ holy 
houses.” 

“ Daughter,” said the Jesuit sternly, “ you should 
obey your spiritual advisers and not argue with 
them. Do you not see your consent to reside at 
the convent will do more to disarm suspicion as to 
your orthodoxy than any number of statements or 
assertions of piety? Believe me, I am seeking your 
best good by my request.” 

Forgive me. Father, for my seeming ingrati- 
tude. We will gladly accompany you.” 

Then the matter is settled,” said Monseigneur 
Ryder rising. A carriage will be sent for you in 
two hours. Set your hearts at rest, for your ex- 
pectations will shortly be realized. At all events, 
you can rely upon my hearty co-operation. Fare- 
well.” 


CHAPTER XIIL 


THE minstrel’s MESSAGE. 

The Prince of Orange sat alone in his private re- 
ception-room. He looked anxious and depressed, 
as a man might well look to whose arm a whole na- 
tion was clinging. In his dark hair gleamed many 
silver threads, and his face was wrinkled and worn, 
although he was only thirty years of age. The 
Regent had refused to accept his resignation, and he 
was placed in an equivocal position. Still, with the 
persistence of his intense nature, he struggled man- 
fully to do what he believed to be his duty. “ For 
Fatherland and conscience ” was ever his motto. 

While he was reflecting upon the unhappy condi- 
tion of his countrymen, a gentle knock sounded 
upon the door. 

“ Come in! ” said William wearily. 

“ I am sorry to disturb you, dear master,” said 
Conrad Chenoweth, who was sincerely devoted to 
the Prince’s person and interests, “ but Francis 
Junius has arrived in disguise, and craves an imme- 
diate audience with your Excellency.” 

‘‘ Admit him at once,” replied William. 

lOI 


102 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


In a moment this remarkable Protestant preacher 
and the greatest prince of his times were face 
to face. It was their first meeting. William, al- 
ways courteous, always hospitable and generous, 
stretched out his hand and said graciously: “ I bid 
you welcome, Seigneur Junius. But are you not 
courting death to venture into Brussels, the para- 
dise of the Catholics? ” 

“ It is a paradise guarded by many flaming 
swords,” was the quick reply. “ As to my safety, 
noble Prince, I give little heed to that. Martyrdom 
will sooner or later be my portion. I only ask that 
my life may prove to have been a stone in the great 
temple of freedom which, if God will, shall be built 
in the Netherlands.” 

“ You have just returned from Germany, I be- 
lieve,” said William. “ What success did you have 
with those in authority? ” 

“ None at all! ” returned Junius gloomily. “ The 
Lutheran princes are narrow and bigoted. They 
will not help the Calvinists or any one who differs 
in the least from them. They fight not against 
anti-Christ, but against the brother who praises 
God in a different form of words. This faith is like 
a stagnant pool, which gives life to none.” 

“ Why is it. Seigneur, that in times like these, 
when the Protestants ought to hold together, they 
are divided into sects? Those of the same faith 
ought to be united.” 


THE MINSTREL’S MESSAGE 


IC3 


“ Gracious Prince, it is for you and King Philip 
to teach the people of the Netherlands the spirit of 
tolerance. The people have reached an important 
crisis in their lives. They look to you to deliver 
them from the hand of the destroyer. The time is 
ripe for action. The voice of freedom, that mighty 
voice of nations, is ever ‘ God and the people,’ and 
it has always confessed its deliverer in Him. In the 
name of the Lord of Hosts, I bring you His mes- 
sage to-day, ‘ Go forward! ’ ” 

“ The nobles are already doing that,” replied 
William. ” They have risen to right the wrongs of 
the nation.” 

‘‘The nobles!” said Junius contemptuously. 
“ What are they doing? Banqueting, debauching, 
uttering incautious words which will bring them to 
ruin, and acting like children just broken loose 
from parental authority. Some one has truly said 
that ‘ the nobles are but the gilded hands on the 
outside of the dial — the hour to strike will be de- 
termined by the obscure but weighty movements 
within.’ Your Excellency, the hands of the clock 
already point to the hour. The people are calling 
for Father William to lead them out of their Egypt 
into the promised land.” 

“ If I understand you aright,” said the cautious 
Prince, “ you are asking me to lead a revolt against 
lawful authority.” 

Junius fixed his keen eyes on the troubled face 


104 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


of the Prince of Orange. “ Pardon my frankness, 
most illustrious Prince, but are you a Netherlander, 
and speak of tyranny as lawful authority? Tol- 
erance is good in times of peace, but when public 
liberty is attacked, to pardon the crime is to share , 
it. It was Luther’s theory that persecution should 
be borne with dumb resignation. The disciples of 
Calvin know how to die like martyrs, after having 
striven like men.” 

Ignoring the implied rebuke, William said 
calmly, ” Seigneur Junius, what can be the out- 
come of a reformation which is already divided 
against itself? ” 

A sad look came into the preacher’s face. J 
do not wonder that this question has suggested 
itself to your mind. No loyalty to a system should 
prevent us from admitting its serious defects. The 
Reformation, being largely the work of man, has 
many defects. I deplore this fact as much as you, 
but I firmly believe that the day is coming when 
unity will prevail. Do I believe that armed resist- 
ance will be successful? Certainly I believe so, for 
even tyranny has its limitations. The Church of 
Rome fights not against nations, but against free 
thought. She will find to her cost that she can 
never slay what is immortal. But I will not weary 
you longer, gracious Prince,” said Junius, rising. 
“ May God in His wisdom guide you in all your de- 
cisions.” 



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THE MINSTREL’S MESSAGE 


105 

"‘Your arguments, Seigneur, shall receive my 
careful attention,” replied William. “ I beg of you 
to incur no needless risks in your zeal for the cause. 
Farewell.” 

Junius passed into an ante-room, where the 
young advocate helped him into his disguise. With 
a white wig, long white mustache, and a harp slung 
over his shoulder, he presented the figure common 
in those days, of a travelling minstrel. 

“ The servants are anxious for an exhibition of 
your skill as a musician,” said Conrad. “ Do you 
think it would be wise to gratify them? ” 

“ By all means! ” was the reply. 

They found the servants assembled in the spa- 
cious hall. The aged minstrel struck a few chords 
on the harp, and then sang in a rich baritone voice 
a stirring song very popular at this time: 

“ We have taken our land from the sea, 

Its fields are all yellow with grain; 

Its meadows are green on the lea, 

And now shall we give it to Spain ? 

No, no, no, no ! 

“ We have planted the faith that is pure, 

That faith to the end we’ll maintain; 

For the word and the truth must endure; 

Shall we bow to the Pope and to Spain? 

No, no, no, no ! 

“ Shall we give up our long cherished right? 

Make the blood of our fathers in vain ? 

Do we fear any tyrant to fight ? 

Shall we hold out our hands for the chain? 

No, no, no, no ! 


io6 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


“ Our ships are on every sea, 

Our honor has never a stain, 

Our law and our commerce are free, 

Are we slaves for the tyrant of Spain? 

No, no, no, no ! 

Great enthusiasm greeted this patriotic song, 
and the minstrel was eagerly besought to sing 
again, but he steadfastly refused, and went his way 
unrecognized. 

Meanwhile, in another part of Brussels, Baron 
Berlaymont was taking his nephew to task. 

“ My dear Hugo,” said the Baron, “ I have no- 
ticed for some time, with considerable surprise and 
displeasure, your growing intimacy witli the 
young advocate Chenoweth. I have been waiting 
for your accustomed good sense to assert itself, and 
show you that this young m.an was not a suitable 
companion for you. You will please me greatly by 
breaking off this acquaintance at once.” 

There was a striking resemblance between uncle 
and nephew despite the difference in their ages. 
But the expression of these two faces was totally 
unlike. On the face of the “ Tiger of Brussels ” lay 
the shadow of fierce, unholy passions, which neither 
his self-command nor his freezing hauteur could 
conceal. Hugo’s face was as frank and open as the 
day. 

“ Conrad Chenoweth is well spoken of,” said the 


THE MINSTREL’S MESSAGE 107 

lad, and everyone concedes that he is a loyal pa- 
triot.” 

He is a Protestant,” replied the Baron, “ and 
that ought to be enough for you to know. To be 
sure, he may possess good qualities, but this ought 
not to blind our eyes to the fact that he is a heretic. 
It is our duty to destroy heretics root and branch. 
Being under the patronage of that cosmopolitan, 
William of Orange, we have been obliged so far to 
tolerate such men.” 

“ But,” persisted Hugo, “ if heretics lead honest, 
respectable lives, ought they not to be tolerated as 
well as Catholics, many of whom lead dissolute 
lives? ” 

The Baron regarded his nephew pityingly. 
“ You are young, my boy, and are not conversant 
with the philosophy of the age. Did you never hear 
it said that ‘ the measure of every man is his belief ’? 
We should judge men by their opinions, as well as 
by their actions. However, if you are fond of this 
young man’s society, there is one condition on 
which you may continue it: Chancellor Maas is 
anxious to learn the advocate’s conversation and 
habits; you could help us very much by drawing 
the young man out in reference to the plans of the 
heretics, their meetings, and the hiding-place of 
their preacher Junius. In this manner you might 
render the Church a signal service.” 

“ Uncle,” cried the boy passionately, do you 


io8 THE SILENT PRINCE 

ask me to be a spy? Do you suppose that I will 
stoop to such meanness? I would rather never see 
Conrad Chenoweth’s face again than to play the 
part of Judas.” 

But I desire you to help the cause of the 
Church by exposing the doings of the heretics.” 

‘‘ That I will never do! ” 

“ Boy, do you dare oppose me? ” said the Baron 
in hoarse tones. “ Beware how you thwart me! I 
have always been gentle with you, but it is not best 
to trifle with me.” 

I do not wish to oppose you, uncle, but my con- 
science forbids my engaging in such dishonorable 
duties.” 

“ It is a pity that your conscience does not bid 
you render me implicit obedience.” 

Uncle and nephew stood looking at each other. 
There was something so noble and spiritual in the 
lad’s beautiful face that the elder man’s eyes fell be- 
fore that searching, sorrowful gaze. 

At length the Baron said, Hugo, you know my 
weakness. I cannot remain angry with you for long. 
Let us drop the matter and the advocate. At least 
you will respect my wishes so far as tO' cease all 
intercourse with that heretic? ” 

Certainly, uncle,” answered Hugo with a sigh 
of regret. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


MAKING AN ENEMY. 

Hilvardine Van Straalen and Madam Chen- 
oweth were seated before the open fire. The girl’s 
cheek had lost something of its roundness and 
bloom, and deep, violet shadows rested heavily un- 
der the beautiful eyes. 

Dear Madam,” she was saying, there is noth- 
ing before me but a life of misery. Father is in- 
exorable. He says I must wed the Chancellor, and 
neither my entreaties nor mother’s arguments move 
him a particle. What shall I do? ” 

Poor Hilvardine! The world seemed suddenly 
to have grown cold and dark in spite of the bright 
June sun, and her head drooped until it rested on 
Madam’s knees. 

“ And dost thou love Conrad, my child? ” 

‘‘ His presence is like the brightest sunshine or 
the sweetest music. How can I give him up? ” 

And Conrad loves you, my child, of that I am 
sure. Love to you both seems to mean only pain 
and separation. How often, when we pluck the 

109 


I lO 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


rose of human love, we are wounded by the thorns 
which surround it! ” 

“ Tell me, dear Madam, if it is my duty to wed 
the Chancellor/' 

I see no course open to you except to obey 
your father's command, Hilvardine. Had he re- 
quired you to renounce your religion, then it would 
have been your duty to disobey him. But in this 
matter it is customary for children to accept such 
marriages as their parents make for them. We all 
have tO' drink the cup as God mingles it, my child, 
the bitter with the sweet." 

“ Perhaps God will provide a way of escape for 
me if I seek to do His will," said Hilvardine. . 

“ With God all things are possible," said Madam. 

The future is in His hands. He can make even 
the wrath of man to praise Him. If it is His will 
that your life and Conrad’s flow in separate chan- 
nels, remember that God knows best. Let the 
knowledge that God knows, and God cares, sustain 
you in this trying hour. God’s love is far beyond 
all earthly love. It is like the ocean, beside which 
poor human affection is but as a trembling dewdrop. 
God does not chide you for your love, for He is 
love. Let God do with you as He will. Only keep 
hold of His hand, and you shall surely be guided 
into the ways of peace." 

The conflict was sharp and sore, but at last Hil- 
vardine grew calm. Her anchor was cast, and the 


MAKING AN ENEMY 


III 


tossing of the waves but strengthened its hold, and 
embedded it more securely in that sure resting- 
place within the veil. 

In a red and gold ante-chamber at the Hotel de 
Ville, in Antwerp, Chancellor Maas was at his toi- 
let, surrounded by a bevy of obsequious lackeys. 
They were engaged in the wearisome task of re- 
juvenating the elderly man so that his face should 
not record his sixty-five years, but present the ap- 
pearance of a man of thirty-five. With a look of 
vanity, the magistrate watched the result. At 
length the work of art was completed, and arrayed 
in a gorgeous costume of silver and blue, he sur- 
veyed his reflection in the mirror with serenity. 

Dismissing his servants, the Chancellor repaired 
to the Burgomaster’s house. He was ushered into 
the presence of Madam Van Straalen. 

“ Hilvardine is spending the day away from 
home,” said that lady. 

'' Where, may I ask? ” 

Madam hesitated. 

“ Is she at Dr. Chenoweth’s again? ” 

Yes.” 

The Chancellor grew very red in the face. Did 
I not tell you that there would be trouble if your 
daughter did not cease her visits to that family? ” 

'' She is very fond of Madam Chenoweth,” began 
the Burgomaster’s wife. 


II2 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Madam Chenoweth indeed! ” replied the Chan- 
cellor scornfully. ‘‘Your daughter goes there to 
get tidings of that rascally advocate, I have no 
doubt. She shall suffer for this! I am tired of her 
sharp speeches and lofty manners. There are other 
women in the Netherlands just as fascinating as 
Mistress Hilvardine, who would be pleased to give 
my addresses their complaisant consideration. I 
told you, Madam Van Straalen, that any disobe- 
dience to my express orders would receive a sum- 
mary punishment. You shall all suffer for this 
piece of impertinence.’’ 

The Chancellor left the Burgomaster’s house 
fuming with rage at his disappointment, and in- 
wardly cherishing plans for a speedy revenge. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE LADY ABBESS. 

In a simple but richly appointed room sat Mon- 
seigneur Ryder and the Mother Superior of the 
convent of the Sacred Heart. The lady wore the 
customary long flowing robe of her Order, but the 
material was of the softest texture, and heavy cord 
and tassels of silk confined the garment at the waist. 
She had one of those dark, beautiful faces which 
defy the ravages of time — whose beauty time en- 
hances rather than diminishes. Ordinarily the face 
of the Lady Abbess expressed simply thoughtful- 
ness and an indomitable will: but for a moment the 
mask was laid aside. Her countenance grew hard 
and the stern lips seemed framed to pronounce 
judgment. The look of calm repose had fled and 
was replaced by an expression which indicated cold- 
ness, disillusion, reproach and bitterness: 

“ I tell you. Monseigneur, I cannot do it.’’ 

“ And I repeat, my cousin, that you shall.” 

The two faces looked as though they might have 
been hewn out of the same block of marble, so simi- 
lar wxre they in feature and expression. 


114 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


The dark eyes of the Lady Abbess flashed and 
her breast heaved with suppressed emotion. 

“ Have a care, Julius! ” she said. “ Do not goad 
me too far.” 

Be so kind, fair cousin, as to remember the 
amount of your indebtedness to me.” 

“ Indebtedness! ” The Mother Superior laughed 
in derision. Indebtedness is a good word, Julius. 
I am indebted to you for a rest which is not peace 
—a calm which is not submission — an endurance 
of my fate which has no kin to resignation. I tell 
you, Julius, that the man or woman whom worldli- 
ness drives into the convent or cloister, is not deliv- 
ered from the evil passions of the world. The con- 
secrated garments of the Church, as you well, know, 
leave the breast above which they are folded pre- 
cisely what it was before.” 

‘‘ See to it, my lady, that you keep such heretical 
doctrines locked securely in your own bosom. You 
are indebted to me, and you know it. I have pro- 
vided you with what your soul craves — position, 
power, and, above all,” he added significantly, 
‘‘ with a house of refuge. Furthermore, those privi- 
leges and extensions which you are desirous of hav- 
ing this convent secure rest entirely upon my rec- 
ommendations. Submit to my will, and your re- 
quests shall be granted. Refuse, and I will see to it 
that your power is materially limited.” 

These words brought the Lady Abbess to sub- 


THE LADY ABBESS 


115 

mission. “ Well, Julius, it is folly for us to quarrel, 
we are of too much use to each other. Forgive my 
frankness, for I have been seriously tried of late. I 
will do as you desire. When does this girl arrive? ” 
In a few hours,” said Monseigneur, rising. “ I 
go to accompany them hither. I am glad, Agnes, 
that you are wise enough not to break friendship 
with me. You say truly that we need each other. 
Farewell for a brief time.” 

The Jesuit repaired at once to the house occu- 
pied by Madame La Tour and her daughter. He 
found them occupied in gathering together what 
effects could be conveniently carried with them. 

Katharine was selecting a few volumes from a 
small bookcase. 

“ You do not need to take any books, my daugh- 
ter,” said the Superior. ‘‘ The convent library is 
quite extensive, and what farther reading matter 
you lack, I will see is supplied from my own li- 
brary.” 

“ Permit me, holy father, to take these two vol- 
umes with me,” said Katharine, holding out a trans- 
lation of the Bible used by the Huguenots and a 
collection of Theodore Beza’s hymns. ' ‘‘ I prize 
them highly, because they were so dear to my 
father,” added the girl. 

'' The poems you may keep. Mademoiselle, but 
we are strictly enjoined on peril of our souls not to 
meddle with the Word of God. This holy Word is 


ii6 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


like a two-edged sword, wounding and bringing 
death to all unskilled hands which dare wield it. I 
will explain to you such portions of the Bible as are 
necessary for a right interpretation of the doctrines 
of the Roman Catholic faith.” 

The carriage had now arrived which was to con- 
vey them to their destination. Madame La Tour 
hoped and prayed that their stay in the convent 
might be brief. She knew the character of these 
places by reputation, and the reports which were 
rife among the Huguenots, while exaggerated, 
were not lacking in a foundation of fact which fur- 
nished just material for condemnation. 

In a short time they traversed the distance be- 
tween their boarding place and the convent of the 
Sacred Heart. It was located in close proximity to 
the House of the Jesuits. The grounds were en- 
closed by a brick wall from twelve to fifteen feet in 
height. 

The ladies alighted from the carriage, and Mon- 
seigneur Ryder rapped three times in quick suc- 
cession on the wall. Immediately a door was 
opened by a portress, who invited the guests to 
enter. Katharine gave a cry of pleasure at the 
view before her. The convent was an old stone 
building, partially covered with clinging vines. The 
neatly trimmed shrubbery, the gravelled walks, 
beds filled with a riotous profusion of flowers, mur- 
muring fountains, and the pleasant shadow of trees, 


THE LADY ABBESS 


117 

made these grounds like an Eden in miniature. 
Even a more resigned expression came over the 
worn face of Madame La Tour at the quiet, peace- 
ful scene. 

From out of the vine-clad porch came the stately 
figure of the Abbess, her fine features wearing a 
look of calmness and her lips wreathed with smiles. 

You are welcome to the convent of the Sacred 
Heart,” she said in a rich, expressive voice, giving 
her hand to Madame La Tour and pressing a kiss 
upon the girl’s fair forehead. “ I trust our humble 
abode may prove a restful asylum for you both. I 
have learned your sad history with commiseration.” 

These sympathetic words allayed Madame’s fears. 
As for Katharine, with the impulsiveness of youth, 
she yielded willing homage to this gracious woman. 

Monseigneur Ryder watched the scene with sat- 
isfaction. He knew full well that if the Lady Ab- 
bess chose to be fascinating no young person could 
long withstand the charm of her personality. 

Sister Margaret was summoned, who escorted 
the ladies to a pleasant suite of rooms on the second 
floor, daintily furnished, with all the necessary con- 
veniences. 

I did not expect to find such creature comfort 
in a convent,” said Madame La Tour in surprise. 

‘‘ You forget that you are guests of the Lady Ab- 
bess,” said their guide. “ The Sisters themselves 
are permitted no such luxuries.” 


ii8 THE SILENT PRINCE 

I should not be surprised if we were able to 
’tolerate a few weeks here with some degree of 
pleasure,’' said Madame, in relieved tones. 

I am in love with the convent already,” replied 
Katharine. “ After having been driven before the 
storm for so many weary months, it is pleasant to 
find such a quiet haven. As for the Mother Supe- 
rior, she is simply adorable.” 

The lay sister, while apparently arranging the 
room, listened intently to the conversation of the 
guests. 

Meanwhile Monseigneur Ryder and the Lady 
Abbess were again conversing in a private ante- 
room. 

What do you think of the ladies? ” the Jesuit 
was saying. 

“ The mother can be easily disposed of. The 
daughter will require judicious management.” 

‘‘ Such as my fair cousin knows well how to 
give,” replied Monseigneur. 

‘‘ Katharine La Tour is a very attractive girl. 
She is generous, impulsive, affectionate. She re- 
minds me of my own girlhood, with this exception: 
she has learned in the school of adversity how to 
restrain the wild impulses of the heart, while I gave 
the rein to my foolish fancies. But she has no busi- 
ness here, Julius, with that face. Let us understand 
each other. Are you fully determined on having 
her take the veil? ” 


THE LADY ABBESS 


119 

“ Most emphatically, yes. And Agnes,” he 
added, “ I want everything made pleasant and easy 
for Mademoiselle La Tour. Do not use discipline, 
except as a last resort. I would give much to have 
her accede to my wishes of her own free will.” 

The Lady Abbess regarded her cousin in sur- 
prise. I never heard you express such a humane 
sentiment toward one of my sex before, Julius. 
This young girl must possess wonderful magic, if 
she has touched the cold heart of Monseigneur 
Ryder.” 

The Superior winced at these words. “ I admit 
frankly, Agnes, that I am strangely interested in 
this girl. Why, I know not and I care not. Aside 
from this fact remains the more practical one of the 
girl’s fortune. A small portion of this property 
will revert to the mother; another slice will be re- 
quired to satisfy the cupidity of the civil magis- 
trate; but the bulk will go to endow this splendidly 
equipped convent. You see, cousin mine, that self- 
interest alone should prompt you to do your best 
in this case.” 

“ And my best I will do, Julius. You have my 
assurance that in a short time Katharirfe La Tour, 
of her own free will, shall become a Sister of my 
Order.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE mOT. 

It was a stormy evening. The moisture, which 
had been rising all day from the river, was now fall- 
ing in copious showers of rain. The wind howled 
dismally through the trees, and ever and anon came 
sounds above the roar of the tempest, which filled 
the heart with misgiving. 

“ I wish the Prince could have remained in Ant- 
werp until after the festival of the Assumption,’’ 
said Dr. Chenoweth to his wife. 

“ Do you fear a riot? ” 

Yes, Agatha.” 

The sounds increased, and hurrying feet sped 
past the house. The doctor arose, and putting on 
his cape prepared to go out. 

“ I must learn the cause of this agitation,” he 
said. I will not be gone long.” 

The doctor returned in about an hour looking 
anxious and tired. If the Catholics persist in 
holding their festival to-morrow, wife, there will 
surely be trouble. The air is full of mutterings, 
which bode no good. It is earthquake weather, 

120 


THE RIOT 


I2I 


and the moral atmosphere is rapidly lowering. 
Count Brederode’s visit to Antwerp has sown the 
seeds of recklessness and mob law.” 

The morning of the eighteenth of June, 1566, 
dawned clear and bright. Althoug'h the Catholics 
were in the minority in Antwerp, they were in no- 
wise daunted by this fact. The time-honored fes- 
tival of the Ommegang proceeded as usual. 

It consisted in the conveying from one end of 
the city to the other of a colossal image of the Vir- 
gin. This image was borne aloft on the shoulders 
of priests and followed by the religious sodalities, 
guilds and military organizations. The sounds of 
drum and fife heralded the approach of the “ Queen 
of Heaven.” This wooden image, to the Protes- 
tants, meant the Inquisition and the stake. The 
sight of this solemn pageant filled their hearts with 
indignation. The procession was followed by the 
usual crowd of scoffers, who confined themselves 
to insulting words and gestures. One or two of the 
bolder ones throw mud upon the image as it passed, 
crying, ‘‘ Mayken, Mayken, your hour is come! 
Antwerp is tired of you! This is your last prome- 
nade!” 

The festivities incident to this occasion were 
shortened; the procession halted in safety before 
the cathedral doors, and the mud-bespattered rep- 
resentative of Our Lady was carried within. In- 
stead of remaining in the centre of the church, as 


122 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


was customary after this festival, the image was 
conveyed to a place of safety behind the iron screen 
of the choir. 

That night Antwerp slept in peace. 

The next morning a disorderly crowd assembled 
before the doors of the great cathedral, turbulent 
but purposeless. Antwerp possessed a large num- 
ber of foreigners. This city was then the commer- 
cial metropolis of the world. Thither had gathered 
the scum of various nationalities. All that these 
foreigners had contributed to this city was the vice 
of their own country. 

The multitude which had congregated before the 
cathedral represented poverty, greed and revenge: 
elements which under favoring conditions could 
easily becom.e lawless and inflammable. 

The riot began with a trivial circumstance. The 
door of the cathedral being unlocked, one by one 
the outsiders ertered. Some ragged urchins peeped 
through the wire network of the screen, and began 
to utter coarse gibes at the inoffensive image. 
“ Mayken, Mayken, art thou terrified so soon? 
Hast thou flown to thy nest so early? Dost thou 
think thyself beyond the reach of harm? Have a 
care, Mayken, thine hour is coming fast! ” 

One of the boys took a stone from his pocket 
and threw it against the screen. This act gave form 
to the idea of revenge, which was uppermost in the 
minds of all. 


THE RIOT 


123 


“ Let us destroy these emblems of popery,” said 
one man to his neighbor, pointing to the wabs 
crowded with shrines and images of saints, the 
elaborate sculptures, and the repository of the 
Host. 

The words flew from lip to lip. Destroy! De- 
stroy! Vivent les gueulx! ” And forthwith the 
work of destruction began. 

A ragged mechanic mounted the pulpit and be- 
gan a parody on a priest’s sermon. Some laughed 
and applauded, while others cried “ Shame! 
Shame! ” A sailor of the old faith rushed after 
the impious offender and dragged him from the 
sacred desk. A pistol-shot wounded the sailor in 
the arm. It was apparent that elements of a more 
dangerous kind were close at hand. A taper ven- 
der’s wares were upset and destroyed, the holy 
water was polluted, while missiles of various kinds 
were levelled at the images. As yet no check had 
been placed upon the movements of the mob. 

As soon as Dr. Chenoweth realized the state of 
affairs, he hurried to the house of Burgomaster 
Van Straalen and begged him to interfere. “ A 
hundred resolute men can easily disperse yonder 
image-breakers,” said the doctor. 

The frightened magistrate consented to accom- 
pany the doctor to the cathedral. In the crowd 
were many intoxicated roughs, who, inflamed with 


124 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


liquor and excitement, urged on their fellows with 
cries like these: 

“ Down with the priests! Liberty forever! Long 
live the Beggars! ” 

“ I believe, Dr. Chenoweth, that these are your 
allies,” said the Burgomaster, with cutting irony. 

This lawless mob does not represent Protes- 
tantism,” replied the doctor, a flush of shame rising 
to his cheeks at the taunt. “ Where there is wheat 
growing, there is always chaff. You surely would 
not condemn all Protestants because of the defec- 
tion of a few! ” 

“The Burgomaster replied coldly: “These fel- 
lows call themselves Protestants. See what they 
are doing? They are destroying the work of cen- 
turies. You cannot blame me for being suspicious 
of a cause which allows such excesses to be per- 
mitted in its name. Good day! ” 

A furious tumult was now in progress. The Mar- 
grave of Antwerp, John Van Immerzeel, the high- 
est executive in Antwerp, accompanied by the 
Senators and the Burgomaster, now marched in a 
body to the cathedral expecting to awe the icono- 
clasts by their august presence. But their expec- 
tations were not realized. The crowd declared that 
they would not leave the church until after vespers. 
When informed that there would be no vespers that 
evening, missiles began to fly in dangerous prox- 
imity to these officers of justice. 


THE RIOT 


125 


“Look at these brave heresy hunters!” jeered 
the mob as the thoroughly frightened magistrates 
beat a hasty retreat, leaving the image-breakers in 
possession of the field. 

The work of destruction now began in earnest. 
Costly paintings were cut in pieces; the golden ves- 
sels on the altar were thrown down and battered; 
the elegantly embroidered altar-robe was rent 
asunder and wound about the shoulders of a low 
wanton, who wreathed the diamond necklace of 
the Virgin in her dishevelled hair. The exquisitely 
toned organ was hewn in pieces, while the sacra- 
mental wine was passed in golden goblets from lip 
to lip. 

The civil authorities were paralyzed with fear. 
They either could not or would not interfere. Be- 
fore the morning sun shone again thirty churches 
within the city limits had been sacked, while every 
image of the Virgin, every crucifix, and every 
sculptured saint were hewn in pieces. Many mon- 
asteries and nunneries were entered, their valuable 
libraries, altars and pictures destroyed, and the oc- 
cupants of these retreats were driven out into the 
summer night. 

For two more days and nights the fury of the 
mob was unappeased, and the churches, chapels, 
and convents in the immediate vicinity of Antwerp 
were despoiled: not for plunder, for no one car- 
ried away any of the treasures, but for revenge, 


126 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


which is one of the bitter fruits of tyranny. The 
reformed preachers were as powerless to check the 
tumult as the Catholics. The mob recognized no 
authority but its own, and they gave the rein to 
their ungoverned passions. 

Unfortunately for the cause of Protestantism, 
these turbulent and destructive elements of the 
city were for a time partisans of the '' New Gospel.'' 
The cause of the Reformation received a blow 
which retarded its progress for years, and which 
gave the enemies of the Reformed faith just cause 
for indignation. The record of this riot at Ant- 
werp was the one dark stain on the banner of Prot- 
estantism in the Netherlands. Yet not a drop of 
blood was shed, not a human being seriously in- 
jured, not an article of treasure stolen, not a single 
church razed to the ground. It was simply a frenzy 
against images which symbolized to the Protestants 
inquisitorial tortures. 

But the day of retribution was near. A Nemesis 
swift and relentless was approaching. These seven 
days and nights of image-breaking were the pre- 
lude of years of horror and bloodshed. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE burgomaster’s PROMISE. 

While events of such moment were transpiring 
in Antwerp, Conrad Chenoweth was busily em- 
ployed in the interests of the Prince of Orange. As 
a panacea for a troubled mind, he had flung himself 
heart and soul into his work, and with a resolute 
hand he had put away the thought of Hilvardine 
Van Straalen. The young advocate had a sense of 
honor unusual for this age. Other young men 
would have considered it right to steal the girl 
from her father’s house, but Conrad Chenoweth 
would never ask any woman to become his wife 
without honorably gaining the consent of her par- 
ents. 

One evening business matters called him abroad 
at a late hour. The streets of Brussels were prac- 
tically deserted. 

When the advocate had transacted his business, 
he returned to his rooms by the broad thorough- 
fare which led him past the regent’s palace and the 
stately cathedral. It has been said that the “ flip- 
pant tread of Fate doth leave no print upon the 

127 


128 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


sand to mark her passage, nor doth she sound a 
note of warning, that the waiting hand may grasp 
her garments as she flies.” Conrad was no believer 
in blind fate. He believed in the providence of 
God. It was to this same overruling Power that 
he attributed a discovery which was to change the 
whole tenor of his life. As he neared the House of 
the Jesuits, the form of a priest appeared. Conrad 
had no difficulty in recognizing the stately tread 
of Monseigneur Ryder. As the priest drew his 
handkerchief from his pocket a slight puff of wind 
brought a paper and laid it directly at the feet of the 
advocate. The latter picked it up and thrust it into 
his pocket. 

On reaching his room Conrad drew the slip of 
paper from its resting-place and read the writing 
thereon. A look of consternation passed over his 
face, succeeded by one of horror. The paper con- 
tained the following memoranda: 

‘‘The persons herein mentioned to be arrested: 
(Antwerp) Louis de Heer, a cloth merchant. 

“ Father Linden, a priest at the Church of the 
Nativity. 

“ Mary and Joanna Mander, domestics in the 
family of Louis Van Hutten. 

“ Hilvardine Van Straalen, daughter of the Bur- 
gomaster, Anthony Van Straalen. 

“After nightfall. Between the hours of eight 
and eleven.” 


THE BURGOMASTER’S PROMISE 


129 


For one brief moment Conrad sat as if paralyzed. 
Hilvardine was in danger. The spies of the Inquisi- 
tion were on her track. Then the Name, the one 
sacred name, which rises to all human lips in mo- 
ments of supreme agony, broke from his lips in a 
wail of anguish. 

“ God in heaven, let this infamous plot fail. Let 
me rescue this maiden, who is as dear to me as my 
own soul, from these human vultures.” 

The young man began to make arrangements to 
reach Antwerp as speedily as possible. He left a 
note for the Prince informing him of his sudden de- 
parture, and then hastily prepared himself for the 
journey. He went to the Royal Sword, hired a 
swift horse, and several hours before daybreak 
found him on the road to Antwerp. He paused in 
his journey only long enough to secure a lunch and 
a fresh horse. 

The day was well advanced when he reached 
Antwerp. Fie noticed the havoc which had been 
made by the rioters, although the streets were now 
quiet, but he hardly gave the matter a thought. 
Should he reach the Burgomaster’s house in time 
to give them warning, or would he be too late? 
The young advocate rode at such a reckless pace 
that people stared at him. One or two myrmidons 
of the law ordered him to stop, but he heeded them 
not. The dust flew, and the smoking flanks of his 
horse bore evidence of mad haste. Conrad Cheno- 


130 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


weth swerved not to the right hand nor the left, nor 
slackened his speed, but rode straight on until the 
Burgomaster’s house was reached. He sprang 
from the saddle, tethered his beast hastily at the 
gate and rushed up the steps to the door. Pie rang 
the bell with such vigor that the butler appeared 
with a frightened face. 

Pushing the servant aside, Conrad rushed into the 
Burgomaster’s sitting-room unannounced. Madam 
Van Straalen had been weeping, and the magistrate 
looked old and worn. 

“ Where is Hilvardine? ” demanded the young 
man. 

The Burgomaster arose and eyed the young ad- 
vocate a moment in stern silence. Then he said: 

And I ask you, Conrad Chenoweth, where is my 
daughter? ” 

‘‘ Your daughter, Heer Burgomaster? I know 
not where she is! Oh, am I too late? ” 

“ My daughter disappeared mysteriously last 
evening,” replied the Burgomaster. 

Perhaps this piece of paper will throw some 
light on the subject,” said the young man, handing 
the Burgomaster the memoranda which he had 
found in the street of Brussels. 

'‘Holy Virgin!” cried the father in distress. 
" My child is in the clutches of the Inquisition.” 
He leaned his head on his hand and sobs shook his 
great frame. It was an agonizing thing to witness 


THE BURGOMASTER’S PROMISE 131 

this man’s sorrow. A woman sheds tears easily. 
But a man’s tears — and such a hard, cold man as 
Anthony Van Straalen — such tears were like drops 
of the heart’s blood. 

“ Is your daughter formally betrothed to Chan- 
cellor Maas? ” asked the young advocate. 

“ No! Hilvardine was so uncivil to him that he 
left her in a rage, vowing vengeance. I expect her 
disappearance is some of his work.” 

‘‘ Heer Burgomaster, I will leave no stone un- 
turned in order to rescue Hilvardine from her ene- 
mies,” said the young man, in a broken voice. 

“ God bless you for your words! ” said Madam, 
with streaming eyes. 

‘‘ Heer Chenoweth,” said the magistrate, thor- 
oughly subdued by his sorrow, “ if you will only 
bring my beloved d^^ughter back to my arms, she 
shall be your wife. Forgive me the harsh words I 
have used to you in days past.” 

Conrad caught the outstretched hand and wrung 
it. If need be,” he said, “ I will give my life to 
rescue your daughter.” 

Your words are brave,” said the Burgomaster 
in his accustomed tones, “ but deeds go farther. 
Lose no time, I beg of you, but hasten on your mis- 
sion. You will have to work slowly and cautiously, 
for you have wily foes to deal with, and your at- 
tachment to my daughter is known.” 

Conrad rode to his father’s house, feeling sadly 


132 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


in need of the strength and counsel of his parents. 
He was surprised at the stillness and deserted ap- 
pearance of the place. The door to the kitchen 
stood open, but the servants were gone. Only old 
Lysken remained, a look of terror on her usually 
placid face. 

What has happened? ” inquired Conrad. 

“ Did you not notice the King’s seal over the 
door? ” answered the nurse. “ The Familiars came 
here last night, searched the house, and removed all 
your father’s private papers. The good doctor was 
betrayed into the hands of the Inquisition by that 
scoundrel Maurits, who has been seen prowling 
about the premises. My master is lodged in prison. 
Alas! ’’ she wailed, we shall never see his kind face 
again! ” 

“ My mother,” said the young man hoarsely. 

Where is she? ” 

Lysken pointed to the door of Madam Cheno- 
weth’s chamber in silence. 

Conrad knocked gently, and then entered the 
room. His mother sat with little Elizabeth clasped 
in her arms, her eyes closed and her lips moving as 
if in prayer. The lonely vigil of the night which 
had just gone, had in it for Agatha Chenoweth the 
supreme anguish of death. Love has its Gethsem- 
ane as well as its Mount of Transfiguration. But 
the strong faith of this woman had sustained her 
even in this trying hour. 


THE BURGOMASTER’S PROMISE 133 


“ Mother! ” said Conrad. The sad eyes opened, 
and Madam drew her son down to her and kissed 
him tenderly. 

“ It is all right, my son,” she said, with quivering 
lips and eyes which were dim with gathering tears. 
“ The Lord loveth whom He chasteneth. He doeth 
all things well.” 

“ It is not right, it is not just,” said Conrad pas- 
sionately. “ Father in prison and Hilvardine in 
the hands of the Inquisition, and the whole body of 
reformed Christians throughout the Netherlands 
persecuted and killed! If we believe that the Prot- 
estants are indeed the Almighty’s chosen ones, it 
is passing strange that He gives the victory to the 
enemies of that faith. It is enough to make one 
doubt God’s goodness.” 

“ Speak not thus, my son,” said his mother. 
“ Your tongue has led you perilously near to blas- 
phemy. God’s ways are indeed inscrutable, but 
they are always goodness and mercy to them that 
fear His name. Yes, I believe it,” she added, 
“whatever the Lord of Hosts permits is right. 
But you are sadly in need of rest and refreshments. 
Go and eat the evening meal which Lysken has pre- 
pared, and then try and sleep. To-morrow things 
will look clearer and we can plan for the future.” 

Conrad obeyed, but he could not swallow food. 
He cast himself on a couch, thinking to rest, but 
not to sleep. Healthy youth knows not how to 


134 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


watch, even in moments of great stress, and soon 
his heavy breathing told his mother that slumber 
had locked his senses in a merciful oblivion. 

Madam Chenoweth could not sleep. At length 
her forced calmness gave way, and outraged nature 
found its natural vent. Laying her head on the 
table, she burst into tears. Sobs shook her frame, 
and between her gasps for breath she cried aloud 
to Him on whom her soul leaned for support. 

Lord, Lord, I am poor and needy. Hear the voice 
of my supplication. Out of the depths do I cry 
unto Thee. Hasten Thou to deliver me! ” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


WHAT THE STARS SAW AT OOSTERWEEL. 

In the royal palace at Brussels all was confusion 
and uproar. The news of the riot at Antwerp had 
reached the capital, and wildly exaggerated reports 
flew from mouth to mouth, until the truth was lost 
in a mass of error. It was stated to the Regent that 
the provinces of Hainault, Flanders and Artois had 
been laid waste, and that a large army of Protes- 
tants was already marching to Brussels to demand 
restitution. 

“ My life is not safe for a moment here,’’ said the 
Regent as she paced the floor of her room half in- 
sane with terror. ‘'Troops, troops, gentlemen! 
Give me troops, that I may exact blood for blood 
from these scurrilous miscreants!” she entreated 
the members of the State Council. It was in vain 
that her advisers tried to pacify the thoroughly 
frightened woman. 

That very night, Viglius, the president of the 
Council, forced his way into the Regent’s chamber, 
where he found the royal lady dressed in her trav- 

135 


136 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


elling suit, and with all preparations made for a 
clandestine departure from Brussels. 

‘‘ Your Highness,” said the aged Frisian sternly, 
“you have lost your presence of mind. You can- 
not be permitted to leave the government in the 
hands of a disorderly mob.” 

“ What do you mean,” cried the angry woman, 
“ by giving me commands? I shall not remain here 
another hour. My life is in danger.” 

“ You will not stir one step from this palace,” re- 
plied Viglius, respectfully but firmly. 

Finding all appeals to reason unavailing, the 
stanch old man said decidedly: “Your Highness 
shall not be permitted to disgrace herself and the 
State by such an act of cowardice. If you forsake 
the post of duty which the King entrusted to your 
hands, I will treat you as a rebel of his Majesty, and 
will cause troops to be led against you.” 

These forcible words restored the hysterical 
woman to her senses, and she remained that night 
at the palace. The next morning she sent for the 
members of the State Council to assemble. The 
Prince of Orange had returned, in answer to the 
despatches which had been sent him earlier. 

The Regent saluted the Prince with a scant show 
of courtesy. 

“ This riot is the result of your gentle measures,” 
she said, tauntingly. 

“ Nay, your Highness. It is because you did not 


WHAT THE STARS SAW 


137 


heed my counsel, but chose to adopt those rigorous 
measures, that this outbreak has occurred. You 
will kindly remember that I gave you fair warn- 
ing.” 

Yes, yes! ” said the wily woman, changing her 
tactics. “ You gave us good advice. Would that 
we had heeded it. Now, my kind friend and coun- 
sellor, will you hasten at once to Antwerp and calm 
these rioters. If Antwerp rebels, the government 
is lost.” 

The government, I trust, rests on a firmer foun- 
dation,” replied the Prince. “ The rebellion of 
Antwerp ought not to mean the downfall of the 
government. Nevertheless, I will at once depart to 
do your bidding.” 

The Prince was not deceived by Margaret’s dis- 
simulation. He had means at his command by 
which the Regent’s letters were opened before they 
reached Madrid. Philip’s replies were subjected to 
the same system of espionage. William was aware 
that the Regent was his enemy, yet he proceeded to 
Antwerp at her request. But it was for the last 
time. He found that Brederode, “ the Beggar 
Prince,” had incited the people to an armed resis- 
tance, and a force of thirteen hundred men, com- 
manded byThoulouse,was organized and equipped. 
Orange ordered the soldiers either to disband or to 
encamp outside the city. They chose the latter al- 
ternative, and set up their camp at OosterweeL 


^38 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Party feeling between the Catholics and Protes- 
tants was running high. To quiet the tumult and 
to restore peace was the mission of the Silent 
Prince. 

The true version of the riot had at length 
reached Brussels. When the Regent comprehended 
that it was but a handful of malcontents that she 
had to reckon with, she roused her energies and 
sent Philip de Lanoy with a thousand picked vet- 
erans to crush the rebels. 

The army which young Thoulouse commanded 
was not one to excite the admiration of any one 
possessed with a knowledge of military tactics. It 
was almost entirely composed of the turbulent ele- 
ments of Antwerp and the surrounding districts, 
beggars,” in deed and truth. 

The youthful commander sat in the front room of 
a country house, which served as his headquarters, 
reading, when de Lanoy, at the head of the Regent’s 
army, marched against Oosterweel. Half of his 
forces were absent on marauding expeditions, and 
the remainder were scattered about, wholly uncon- 
scious of danger. 

Thoulouse was an ardent Protestant, and wholly 
devoted to this cause. He felt that the last step of 
the followers of this cause had been over a preci- 
pice. None regretted the actions of the iconoclasts 
more than he, yet he remained stanch to the faith 
and resolved to defend it to the death. Wind and 


WHAT THE STARS SAW 


139 

tide might be against him, but Thoulouse never 
dreamed of deserting his colors. 

A loud noise in the distance attracted his atten- 
tion. Two soldiers ran into the commander’s pres- 
ence with the joyful announcement, “ The Beggar 
Prince is coming! Our friends are in sight! ” 

Thoulouse looked at the advancing host. There 
were no banners visible, and there was nothing to 
indicate that they were other than Count Bred- 
erode’s auxiliaries, whom he had agreed to send 
from Holland. Great joy prevailed in the camp at 
Oosterweel. “ Allies are coming! Our victory is 
assured! ” the soldiers shouted joyously. 

Only for a brief moment were they deluded. 
The advancing host unfurled its standards, and 
Spanish colors fluttered in the breeze! Trumpets 
sounded the assault. On the still morning air rang 
out the fierce battle-cry: ''Santiago! Santiago! 
Sancta Maria! On to victory! ” And down the low 
hill swept the Spanish cavalry like a wave of de- 
struction. 

Fear made cowards of the undisciplined rebels. 
Like frightened sheep, a part of them obeyed the 
instinctive desire to flee the danger, even though 
flight was the one thing which would aggravate 
their peril. 

Thoulouse, with wonderful presence of mind, 
gathered the remnant of his force together and 
called out to the fugitives to keep within the shel- 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


140 

ter of the forts, and to reserve their fire until the 
enemy came within close range. He might just as 
well have advised the winds, as to have issued com- 
mands to that terrified host. They fired at random, 
and then fled precipitately. There was no shelter 
open to them. On the one side were the gates of 
Antwerp inexorably closed. On the other side was 
the Catholic army, which was loyal to the Spanish 
King. The result was a wholesale massacre.. Only 
about the person of Thoulouse, who was sur- 
rounded by a hundred intrepid soldiers, was there 
the semblance of a battle. 

Bravely did this little band defend themselves 
against unequal odds. 

‘‘ Will not the Prince of Orange send us help? ’’ 
asked one of the soldiers of Thoulouse. 

“ No, my men. The Prince has never regarded 
the ‘ beggar movement ’ favorably. Death is be- 
fore us, and every man of you must make up his 
mind to die.” 

A sigh escaped his lips. He was young, only 
twenty years of age, and life was sweet. He had 
left a beautiful young wife in Antwerp, — cruel Ant- 
werp, that would not send succor in his extremity. 
But he levelled his musket without a tremor, and 
his unerring aim proved that his nerves were 
steady. 

These rough beggars were thoroughly sobered 


WHAT THE STARS SAW 


141 

at the prospect. The near approach of death in- 
spired them with solemn emotions. The goal was 
death, they knew it; but death on the battle-field 
was preferable to death at the hands of the execu- 
tioner. To their honor, be it said, they uttered no 
idle complaints, but each man grasped his weapon 
with the energy of despair. 

The issue of this unequal warfare is well known. 
History tells us that it was a cruel traffic in human 
blood. 

Sunset came. The western sky above the hill 
was broken into rifts. Crimson lights ran up into 
the sky, pierced the walls of purple cloud, and cast 
a blood-red glow upon the clouds overhead. Amid 
the glow of the sunset fires another lurid light 
mingled. It was the flames of the country-house 
where the commander of the rebel forces had made 
his headquarters. Rather than be taken alive, 
Thoulouse and a few survivors had entered the 
house and fired it. 

Better perish in the flames than under the axe,’’ 
said the blood-stained commander as he stood for 
a moment by the window and surveyed the scene. 
Columns of flame and smoke hid his face from view. 
Only his half-charred body fell into the hands of 
the government. 

The night winds whispered an awful secret. 
‘'Alva is coming! Alva is coming!” they said. 


142 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Truly the time was ripe for Alva to come. The 
hand of tyranny had this day struck a fatal blow, 
and the name of Alva was soon to become a “ ter- 
ror-breeding watchword ” throughout the length 
and breadth of the Netherlands. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


HERO OR COWARD? 

Antwerp was in a frightful tumult when the 
noise of battle proclaimed the fact that the valiant 
band of Protestants had been betrayed. Conrad 
Chenoweth, feeling that his first duty was in Ant- 
werp caring for his mother, became identified with 
the crowd that watched the progress of the conflict 
from the walls of the city. 

Prominent upon this coign of vantage was the 
young wife of Marnix Thoulouse. With pale face 
and tearless eyes she followed the movements of 
one beloved form. She listened to the commands 
which rang out clear and incisive from that beloved 
voice. When she saw him pressed on all sides and 
menaced with death, she became like one dis- 
traught. Running wildly from street to street, she 
besought the burghers to help her husband. 

The sympathies of a large part of the citizens 
were with the young wife of Thoulouse, and in a 
short time ten thousand men were assembled, 
armed with axes, pikes, arquebuses and any imple- 
ment which could be obtained on the spur of the 

143 


144 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


moment. This band marched at once to the Red 
Gate. 

The Prince of Orange, anticipating some such 
movement, reached the (iate before the armed but 
undisciplined band of citizens. 

“No one passes out the Red Gate! ” was his im- 
perative command. “ Men of Antwerp, listen to 
me! Will you thus recklessly sacrifice your lives? 
You do not know what you are asking when you 
demand that yonder gate be opened. Outside is a 
body of veterans, trained in military tactics, disci- 
plined to act as one man. You are nothing but raw 
recruits. I will not let you go forth to be slaugh- 
tered in cold blood.” 

“ Fool! Traitor! Die where you stand, miscre- 
ant that you are! ” and a loaded arquebusque was 
levelled at the breast of the Prince. Conrad Chen- 
oweth sprang forward and knocked the weapon 
from the man’s hand. 

“Shame! Shame!” cried many of the citizens 
who were still loyal to Orange. The burghers rec- 
ognized the wisdom of William’s temperate and 
reasonable words, and all but five hundred acceded 
to his wishes, and remained within the city. The 
foolhardy band who dashed out of the gates re- 
turned in a few moments only too glad to seek 
safety within the friendly walls. The only effect 
which their effort to help Thoulouse had upon the 
enemy was to hasten the death of three hundred 


HERO OR COWARD 


145 


prisoners whom they had taken. Expecting the 
battle about to be renewed, and having no means 
to guard the prisoners, they were deliberately shot. 

The news of the complete massacre of Thou- 
louse’s army caused the most intense excitement. 
The Protestants had been betrayed! By whom? 
By some Catholic, of course! “ Death to the Catho- 
lics! ” said stern lips. 

The young wife of Thoulouse realizing that she 
was a widow, went about moaning in her anguish, 

O, why did you not save my husband, my brave, 
my beautiful one? ” 

The Prince of Orange rode to the place where 
the new-made widow was sobbing and wringing 
her hands. He laid his hand tenderly on the bowed 
head. 

“ Ask him your question, Madam Thoulouse,” 
said a burgher, pointing to the Prince. “ Ask that 
man why he refused to open yonder gate, when ten 
thousand of us were ready to go to your husband’s 
relief. Yes, I say,” he shouted angrily, “ ask that 
great reformer, that pretended adherent of the Prot- 
estant faith, why he kept within the city and let 
three thousand of his brethren seal their faith with 
their heart’s blood.” 

The young widow lifted her tear-gemmed eyes, 
and gazed reproachfully at the Silent Prince. An 
immense crowd had gathered meantime. Another 
riot was imminent. The faces of the men were hard 


146 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


and bitter, and ever and anon rose on the breeze a 
sound like the roar of an angry sea. “ Death to the 
Catholics!” and the words were no meaningless 
threat. 

Every eye was fixed on the Prince. He raised his 
hand and all kept silence. 

‘‘ Lower your weapons! ” 

Every man obeyed involuntarily. 

‘'Citizens, Protestants, what are you contemplat- 
ing? Has not enough blood been shed, that you 
threaten to spill that of thousands more of your 
fellow countrymen? Does your gospel teach you 
an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth? Are you 
the followers of Him who said, ‘ Bless and curse 
not’? In what, pray, are you better than those 
with whom you contend? ” 

“ Coward! ” hissed one. “ Traitor! ” yelled an- 
other. “ Would you sacrifice us as you did our 
brethren at Oosterweel? ” demanded a third. 

The excitement grew intense. One man, shak- 
ing with rage, seized the bridle of the horse on 
which the Prince rode. “Where is my son?” he 
cried. “ Where is my daughter’s lover? ” A stern 
voice close at his elbow called out in clear tones: 
“ Prince William, account to us for our dead at 
Ooserweel, or your life shall answer for yesterday.” 

A dozen pikes were levelled at the breast of Or- 
ange, and to-day no arm was raised to defend him. 
Alone he stood facing thousands of infuriated men. 


HERO OR COWARD 


147 


His face was deathly pale and his lips trembled, but 
it was not with fear. 

'' Burghers,” said the Prince, I will reply to 
your first accusation as to why I permitted the 
slaughter of yesterday to go unavenged. As to the 
threat upon my life, I can say nothing. There are 
thousands of you. I am alone! ” 

The proud dignity and quiet words of William 
of Orange were more cogent than a sublime ora- 
tion. The crowd began to look shamefaced. They 
knew that the Prince was no coward. He was calm, 
even though he knew the mob was capable of tear- 
ing him in pieces. But they were not yet fully sat- 
isfied. 

“ Prove your statement! ” shouted one. 

“ Deeds, we want deeds! ” said another. 

“ Citizens,” said William, ‘‘ do you think it cost 
me nothing to sacrifice the brother of one of my 
dearest friends, one who was dear to me for his 
own sake, and to feel compelled to disappoint his 
confidence? To be sure, you might have sallied 
forth, and perhaps have rescued Thoulouse and his 
men, and defeated the government troops. But at 
what a cost! The city of Antwerp would imme- 
diately have been subjected to all the horrors of 
civil war. From that fate you were saved yester- 
day. Was that the act of a traitor? Furthermore,” 
he added, “ so long as I have a voice to advise, and 
an arm to deter you, not a man shall draw a weapon 


148 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


upon one of his fellow citizens; within Antwerp 
no fratricide shall be committed until that weapon 
shall first have pierced my heart.” 

Again the mob recognized the voice of its mas- 
ter. William of Orange must have possessed that 
which we call “ authority ” in his face and speech, 
that alone and unarmed he could awe that blood- 
thirsty throng. They recognized that this courage- 
ous man was in the right. At least, if he risked the 
lives of others, he was equally ready to risk his own. 

“Long live the Prince of Orange!” cried the 
fickle populace. 

“ My children,” said William persuasively, “ dis- 
band and go to your homes.” 

And the citizens of Antwerp obeyed, and peace 
was secured. 


CHAPTER XX. 


A CANCELLED DEBT. 

I AM sorry, Heer Chenoweth, that I can do 
nothing to secure your father’s release,” said the 
Prince of Orange to the young advocate after the 
tumult had subsided and terms of peace had been 
accepted. “ If your father had been arrested for 
some civil offence, I could assist you. But unfor- 
tunately he is a prisoner of the Inquisition, and to 
attempt to interfere with this authority would mean 
angering the Catholics and renewing the strife. It 
would take but a spark to fan the flame of discord 
into a mighty conflagration. To-morrow I shall 
be an outlawed rebel. I have refused to take the 
Regent’s test oath of loyalty, and leave the Neth- 
erlands to-day for my estates in Germany.” 

Conrad bade his friend and patron farewell with 
regret, and with a sad heart returned to inform his 
mother of the failure of his mission. 

Concerning these days of darkness and anguish 
we will keep reverent silence. Each disciple is 

sooner or later called to keep vigil with his Master, 

149 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


150 

by the bedside of the sick or dying, or on the battle- 
field or in lonely exile, or beside the prison gate. 
To each trembling child of sorrow has Jesus re- 
peated the same compassionate saying: “The spirit 
indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.*’ 

One afternoon, as Madam Chenoweth sat with 
her little daughter, a shadow darkened the door- 
way. Glancing up, she saw a priest of the Order 
of Jesus. An involuntary cry escaped her lips, and 
her face grew a shade paler. 

A bitter smile crossed the Jesuit’s face as he said: 
“ I must, indeed, be sadly changed if Madam Chen- 
oweth shrinks from me in fear. Has not Mistress 
Van Cortlandt a place for me in her heart? or am I 
totally forgotten? ” 

The priest cast aside his cowl, and stood where 
the light from the window shone full upon his face. 

“ Louis Van Steen! ” gasped Madam, a new and 
terrible fear clutching at her heart. 

“ Ah, Madam, I am glad your memory has not 
played you false. Yes, Louis Van Steen stands be- 
fore you, but it is not the same wild, impetuous 
youth who so passionately sued for your love, and 
who cherished the rose which you discarded as if 
it had dropped straight from Paradise. It is not 
your playmate and your lover who stands before 
you now, but a man who has learned in the school 
of discipline to estimate feelings at their true value. 
How is it with you. Madam Chenoweth? Has 


A CANCELLED DEBT 


151 

your marriage with that penniless Protestant 
proved a failure? ’’ 

Madam Chenoweth arose, her queenly form 
drawn to its full height, and her face glowing with 
scorn and indignation. 

“ A failure, Louis Van Steen? Know you that 
to-day John Chenoweth is dearer to me than aught 
else save my love to Christ and my hope of heaven. 
I have been honored above women by his choice. 
I have tasted the sweetest cup of earthly joy by his 
side.” Then, fearing that she had said too much, 
and not wishing to anger the man before her, she 
added, “ The playmate of my childhood had ever a 
kind, generous heart. I cannot believe that he has 
come to-day simply to taunt me in my grief and 
loneliness.” 

“You are right, Madam. I have a mission to 
perform, which I had well-nigh forgotten, in the 
overwhelming tide of reminiscences which swept 
over me when I saw your face. You are little 
changed from the Mistress Van Cortlandt of other 
days, save as the promise of youth has been glori- 
ously fulfilled. It is not wise for me to dwell upon 
the past. But there is one more circumstance 
which I should like to recall to your mind. When 
that ardent youth, Louis Van Steen, realized that 
he was rejected by Mistress Van Cortlandt, think- 
ing in his blind infatuation that nothing stood in 
the way of his acceptance but the difference in faith, 


152 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


he decided to become a heretic, and to cast aside 
the ancient and revered faith of his fathers. Then, 
when he besought you on his knees to accept this 
impious sacrifice, and grant him favor, you utterly 
refused to let this rash youth perjure himself. I 
have to thank you to-day for saving my soul from 
eternal death. The day that you became the wife 
of Dr. Chenoweth I entered the school for novi- 
tiates in Brussels, and in process of time became a 
Brother of the Society of Jesus. All these years I 
have blessed you for your decision, and never have 
I omitted to remember your name in my prayers 
from that day to this, beseeching God to open your 
eyes, that you might be brought to a saving knowl- 
edge of the truth before it is forever too late.’’ 

There was no doubt as to the sincerity of the 
priest. His countenance showed that he was ter- 
ribly in earnest. Madam Chenoweth gazed upon 
that noble face, almost transparent in its color, and 
she said to herself, “ Poor Louis! And this is what 
the cloister has made of you! ” Aloud she said, 
“ I thank you, my friend, for your kindness, but 
my faith is as dear to me as yours is to you. Noth- 
ing will ever alter my convictions.” 

The priest sighed. Then he said, I have long 
desired to cancel my obligation to you. It is now 
possible for me to do it. I have learned that both 
you and your son have been denied admittance to 
the prison where your husband is incarcerated. I 


A CANCELLED DEBT 


153 


can procure this favor for you. Come to-night to 
the chapel which adjoins the prison and I will con- 
duct you to your husband.” 

“ I thank you, Louis, more than I can express — 
but — ” Madam Chenoweth hesitated and glanced 
at Elizabeth. Was this not some net to ensnare 
her and her children? She must not accept favors 
from any Jesuit blindly. 

“ But what, Madam? ” said the priest, a frown 
gathering between his brows. “ Why do you hesi- 
tate? Do you not trust me? ” 

“ Will my child be safe, and shall I be allowed to 
return when the tryst is over? ” inquired the anx- 
ious mother. 

The priest seemed to be aware of the child’s pres- 
ence for the first time. The little face under its 
nimbus of golden hair was almost ethereal in its 
delicacy. 

“ Father Ryder would account me guilty of mor- 
tal sin to neglect such an opportunity,” muttered 
the priest to himself. “ But no, I cannot do it. It 
is her baby.” 

Then Father Steen fixed his sad, unrestful look 
on Madam Chenoweth. 

“ Fear not,” he said, '' either for yourself or your 
child. I cannot find it in my heart to rob you of 
a single hair of yonder golden head. As far as I 
know, you are both safe for to-night. But after 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


IS4 

to-day I cannot assure you. It were better for you 
to leave Antwerp for the present.’' 

Madam Chenoweth still hesitated. You refuse 
to trust me! ” exclaimed the priest. The color 
rushed to his pale cheeks, which demonstrated that 
the passionate spirit within was not wholly sub- 
dued. ‘‘Very well! I can do no more to satisfy 
your fears than to give you my simple word,” and 
he turned to go. 

“ Wait, Louis, one moment, I entreat you,” said 
Madam. “ I do not distrust you, but your Order. 
You have just given me your word of honor. Tell 
me, is it the word of honor of a Jesuit, or a Flemish 
gentleman? ” 

Their eyes met. There was no hesitancy in the 
priest’s answer. 

“ A Flemish gentleman addresses you. Madam.” 

“ Thank you, Louis. My last fear is laid to rest. 
Most gratefully do I accept your boon.” 

Father Steen encountered Conrad Chenoweth as 
he was passing out of the house, and he stopped a 
moment to warn him of impending danger. 

“ I did not dare to let your mother know the ex- 
tent of the peril she was in, but another sunrise 
must not find her and the little child in Antwerp.” 

“ Our plans are all laid for an immediate depart- 
ure,” said the advocate. “ I thank you for your 
generous act.” 

“ The indebtedness is still on my side,” returned 





IS IT THE WORD OF HONOR OF A JKSITT, OR A FI.EMISM GENTLEMAN?'^ 

154. 



A CANCELLED DEBT 


155 


the priest. “ Perhaps you are not aware that your 
movements are closely watched. You have enemies 
in high places. I should advise you to leave this 
section at once. But if you choose to remain, see 
to it that you are so cleverly disguised that your 
mother would not recognize you. Farewell.’’ 

Promptly at the hour of eight the young advo- 
cate escorted his mother to the chapel confessional 
of the church of Notre Dame. There was a dim 
light burning, but no one was awaiting them. A 
sickening fear crept over Madam Chenoweth. 
Was her great love to be the snare which should 
entrap her and those she held so dear? She be- 
gan to doubt Louis Van Steen’s word, in spite of 
his pledges and solemn asseverations. 

“ It shall go hard with that priest if he has broken 
faith with us,” said Conrad. 

Just then the door from the church opened and 
Father Steen appeared. One glance at the anxious 
faces before him revealed to the one who was ac- 
customed to read men’s minds like a printed page 
their doubts. 

A scornful smile curved his lips. ‘‘You see, 
Madam, that even a Jesuit is not destitute of 
honor,” he said, with cutting irony. “ Heer Chen- 
oweth, it will be safer for you to wait outside the 
building. In precisely one hour I will bring your 
mother to you. I have prepared Dr. Chenoweth 


156 THE SILENT PRINCE 

for this visit. Madam will be so good as to follow 
me.” 

Taking a lighted candle the priest led the way 
through the chapel, then down a flight of stairs, 
through devious dimly lighted passages until the 
cell of Dr. Chenoweth was reached. Unlocking 
the door he set the candle down on a stone table 
and withdrew, bolting the door after hirn. He 
paused a moment outside. 

My love! My love! ” sounded a woman’s voice, 
in such sweet tones of passionate longing that it 
wrung his heart, not with rapture, but with the 
pang of unrequited affection. The priest fled pre- 
cipitately, nor paused until he had reached the 
chapel and cast himself on his knees before the 
crucifix, to wrestle in bitter anguish of soul. 

“Agatha, my precious wife!” said Dr. Cheno- 
weth. 

Bright grew the darkness around them, lighted 
by the unquenchable fire of human affection. They 
were together. All else for the time being was for- 
gotten. The doctor was the first to rouse himself 
from this blissful reality. “ The moments are fly- 
ing, my wife, and I have much to say to you. God 
helping our endeavors, I expect to escape to- 
night.” 

“ To-night? ” echoed his wife, in joyous tones. 

“ Yes, my love. The under-jailer, a secret fol- 
lower of the Reformed religion, is going to assist 


A CANCELLED DEBT 


157 


me to escape, and will accompany me to Germany, 
where we hope to be able to assist the Prince of 
Orange in his preparations to defend the Nether- 
lands. After my departure my family will be in 
great danger. You must leave Antwerp to-night.” 

“ That matter is all arranged, John. Nicholas 
Mander has agreed to escort us to Friesland, where 
Lysken’s brother lives. Lysken assures me that he 
will gladly give us shelter for a time. You can 
safely trust us to the care of Nicholas Mander. He 
is thoroughly devoted to your interests. Conrad 
will try and rescue Hilvardine Van Straalen from 
the hands of the Inquisition, and at the same time 
he will be loyal to the interests of the Prince. From 
his post in Brussels he may be able to give the ex- 
iled William much valuable information regarding 
the situation of affairs.” 

A great weight is removed by your words, 
Agatha. Friesland is the nearest point to Ger- 
many, and I can send letters to you quite easily. 
There is comparatively little danger to be encoun- 
tered in travelling from one end of the Netherlands 
to the other. Only the seaports are guarded. You 
must be well on your journey before sunrise. Now, 
my beloved wife, let us commit ourselves and our 
interests to God’s care.” They both knelt with 
clasped hands, while the doctor uttered a simple 
but earnest petition. 




THE SILENT PRINCE 


158 

A tap on the door warned them that the hour 
had expired. 

My love, we are in God’s hands, whether for 
life or for death. Let us trust Him,” whispered the 
doctor, as he kissed the lips which were quivering 
with anguish. 

Father Steen ■ looked at Agatha Chenoweth’s 
face as she came out of that dungeon with aston- 
ishment and feelings akin to awe. On that grandly 
beautiful face was the light of love, of resignation, 
and of high resolve. It was as if she had had a 
glimpse of a beatific vision, instead of a noisome 
cell — perchance an open grave! 

To this weary devotee of the Church, striving 
but never achieving, seeking peace and finding un- 
rest; to this man, who considered love a crime and 
joy an unpardonable sin, this look was a revelation. 
It showed him heights of Christian attainment 
which he had never scaled. 

In silence the two retraced their steps to the 
chapel door. In the shadow was Conrad Cheno- 
weth. The priest took Madam’s hand a moment 
and pressed it gently. 

I have redeemed my pledge as a Flemish gen- 
tleman,” he said, placing the hand within Conrad’s 
arms. “ I shall never permit myself to look upon 
your face again. Farewell.” Nor did he pause to 
listen to the broken words of thanks which fell from 
Madam’s lips. 


A CANCELLED DEBT 


159 


The short summer night wore away. Upon the 
deep purple sky myriad stars flashed like gems. 
There was no sound on the perfumed air save the 
whispering of the trees, as they told their secrets to 
the night winds. The city slumbered in silence. 
Now and then a falling star flashed into space and 
then disappeared, leaving no trace behind, — a type 
of the lives of many of the citizens of Antwerp 
which the reign of Alva would eclipse. But Venus 
shone with a clear, steady light upon two bands of 
fugitives, who left the city that night in safety. 
They were Dr. Chenoweth and the under-jailer, 
who sailed swiftly down the river Scheldt, and 
Madam Chenoweth, her child and old Lysken, un- 
der the leadership of honest Nicholas Mander. 

Conrad Chenoweth, disguised as an old peasant, 
was en route for Brussels, intent on finding the 
Burgomaster’s daughter. 


CHAPTER XXL 


THE FLAME SCORCHES. 

Katharine La Tour had now been three 
months in her new home, and she was charmed 
with her surroundings. To one whose life had 
been stormy, the quiet and seclusion of the convent 
were very grateful. She even sighed at the thought 
of leaving this haven of rest and once more ming- 
ling in the gayeties of the world. 

She was of a temperament to which the ritual of 
the Roman Catholic Church strongly appealed. 
Whenever she entered one of the old cathedrals, 
an invisible spell held her senses. The ever-burning 
lamps, the grand, deep-toned music, the shrines 
which affection had dedicated to the dear departed, 
the mass which the priest recited daily and which 
broke the terrible silence between the living and 
the dead — all these influences seemed to deepen the 
enchantment which lulled her doubts to repose. 

Monseigneur Ryder had superintended her in- 
struction in the doctrines of the Roman Catholic 
Church, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that 
his charge was convinced that she had found the 

i6o 


THE FLAME SCORCHES 


i6i 


true faith. He placed in her hands only those books 
which would tend to deepen the ardor and inspire 
the reverence of a noble nature: books written by 
saints and martyrs, and the early fathers of the 
Church. He met and answered all her queries, and 
spun clever syllogisms, which seemed perfectly rea- 
sonable to his listener. The girl was young, igno- 
rant, trustful. She had learned to look with rever- 
ence upon this holy father who took such a kind 
interest in her spiritual welfare, and to her innocent 
mind his word was both law and gospel. 

The society of the convent was very congenial. 
Many of the nuns were daughters of noble houses, 
and were educated, refined gentlewomen. Kath- 
arine was completely under the influence of the 
Lady Abbess, and regarded her with loving ad- 
miration. She was thrown intentionally into the 
society of two of the Sisters: Sister Constance and 
Sister Theresa. Sister Constance was an accom- 
plished musician, and Katharine, being endowed 
with musical abilities of a high order, gladly availed 
herself of the nun’s instruction. Sister Theresa was 
the '' Saint ” of the convent, the one who could 
dream dreams and see visions. She was ordered to 
deepen the spiritual significance of Monseigneur 
Ryder’s instructions, and to converse daily with the 
young guest on matters which pertained to the 
faith and requirements of the Church. 

The Abbess requested the Superior of the House 


162 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


of the Jesuits to step into her room one morning as 
he was about to leave the convent, after having 
made his daily visit to his young charge. 

“ Julius,” she said, ‘‘ you must go more slowly 
or you will spoil everything by haste. The girl 
was frightened the other day by your looks and 
your familiar mode of address. Positively, you 
wear your heart on your sleeve.” 

How long is it, fair cousin, since you were ap- 
pointed my confessor? ” returned the Superior 
angrily. “ I know what I am about. And Agnes, 
if for a moment you think I am smitten by la grande 
passion, you are mistaken. The difference in our 
ages ought to teach you that I regard Katharine 
La Tour as a father might regard his young daugh- 
ter.” 

Excuse me,” said the Abbess, laughing. “ I 
perceive that I have made a mistake! A fatherly in- 
terest! That is very good, Julius. However, it is 
no business of mine. Only heed my warning if you 
wish the girl to take the veil willingly.” 

After the Superior reached the privacy of his 
own room, he sat down and faced the problem 
which his cousin had propounded. Was he. 
Monseigneur Ryder, the cold, unimpressionable 
Superior of the House of the Jesuits, the cynic, in 
love? He scoffed at the idea. But his reason told 
him plainly that the pleasure he took in the society 
of Katharine La Tour was not because of the 


THE FLAME SCORCHES 


163 


wealth which he hoped to secure by making her a 
nun, neither was it the unselfish affection which the 
thought of snatching a soul from eternal misery 
would inspire. It was human love which made the 
sound of her voice linger in his memory like sweet 
music, and which made her face seem infinitely 
more attractive than the inanimate representations 
of life which looked down upon him from the walls. 

But the Superior’s creed was elastic enough to 
cover this defection. “ And what if I do love this 
girl? ” he mused. Where is the harm? Have not 
cardinals, bishops and even popes loved in their 
day? And was it sin in these holy men? Certainly 
not! To the pure all things are pure. And as- 
suredly, if I keep my feelings locked within my own 
breast, no one will be the wiser.” 

Thus did the Superior quiet his conscience. And 
daily he repaired to the convent to give the young 
novice instruction. 

One beautiful evening, after vespers, the Lady 
Abbess invited Katharine to enjoy the view from 
the roof of the convent. The sun was sinking in 
the west. The sounds of busy life in the streets be- 
low, the tramp of hurrying feet, the bustle and con- 
fusion, were strangely at variance with the quiet of 
the convent. 

“ I shall be sorry to leave this beautiful spot,” 
said the girl with emotion. “ The convent has been 
like a home to me, and you, reverend Mother, have 


164 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


lavished loving care and attention upon me without 
stint. Monseigneur told me this morning that our 
legal claims were adjusted and that we could depart 
at our option.” 

Have you ever thought, my child, of devoting 
your life to God in a retreat like this? ” 

Yes, reverend Mother, the thought has oc- 
curred to me many times since coming here. But 
tell me, do not those who become nuns ever regret 
it? Does not the desire to see the world and form 
human companionship enter the heart and make 
life miserable? ” 

I cannot speak, my child, for other convents, 
but I do know that not one of the Sisters here 
would go back to the world, even if such a course 
were possible. From my own experience I can 
truly say, that this spot has become the only home 
I have known.” The Abbess did not consider it 
necessary to add that her haughty spirit had ever 
rebelled against the limitations of her sphere. 

Look yonder, Katharine. There are discord, 
strife, turmoil, bitterness of soul. Here are peace, 
rest, quietness of spirit. Which will you choose, 
my child? ” 

The girl was silent. “ I am young, reverend 
Mother, and I fear that I should, by and by, long 
for the activities of a worldly career,” she said at 
length. 

You would be permitted activity here,” replied 


THE FLAME SCORCHES 165 

the Abbess. “ There are the poor and sick to be 
visited and comforted. Besides, we have schools 
connected with all our convents, where little chil- 
dren are instructed. I think all the activity that 
your heart could desire you would find here. Give 
the matter your prayerful consideration, my child,” 
she said affectionately, as they returned below. 

There was one person who regarded Katharine’s 
leanings towards a conventual life with the keenest 
disapproval, and that was Madame La Tour. Hav- 
ing been informed that the property was secured to 
herself and daughter, she was anxious to depart. 
The seclusion and monotonous routine of the place 
had become inexpressibly tedious. She urged, en- 
treated and commanded her daughter to break 
away from the snare which was being laid for her 
feet, and to use her reason and common sense. 
Katharine was completely under the influence of 
Monseigneur Ryder and the Lady Abbess. She 
saw the matter through their eyes. For the first 
time in her life she refused to obey her mother’s 
commands. 

Wearied at length by the controversy and har- 
assed by ill-health, Madame La Tour determined 
to take her portion of the property and go to Eng- 
land. But before the day arrived for her departure 
she was dead. She had long been a sufferer from 
heart trouble, and the disappointments of her life 
hastened her end. 


i66 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Such pressure was now brought to bear upon 
the sorrowing daughter that she readily consented 
to take the veil and to become a Sister of this 
Order. Fearing that she might alter her mind after 
her sorrow for her mother had abated, Monsei- 
gneur Ryder shortened the time of her novitiate 
and bade the girl prepare to take the veil within a 
few weeks. 

To this Katharine gave a willing consent. With- 
out a home, and with no relatives to whom she 
could apply, it was natural that she should accede 
to the wishes of those who had professed such a 
keen interest in her welfare. 


CHAPTER XXIL 


A FORETASTE OF TERROR. 

In the grounds adjoining the barracks at Calais 
paced a young officer. He had a noble, thoughtful 
face, just such a face as Rembrandt delighted to 
portray. He was strongly built but thin of flesh. 
A nascent force characterized his every movement. 
To be near him was like coming within the radius 
of a strong electric current. 

There was little to occupy the attention of the 
garrison in this sleepy old town. Colonel Reynold 
Van Straalen caught himself in the act of suppress- 
ing a yawn. 

Things are growing intolerable,’’ he said to 
himself. “We shall soon be useless ships if we are 
always to ride at anchor. Would that I could hear 
from home.” 

Some one beckoned to him from the barracks. 
“ There is a stranger who wishes to speak with 
you,” said the guard with a salute. 

An elderly man in humble apparel stood before 
the young officer. 

“ Colonel Van Straalen does not remember me, 

I see,” said the stranger. “ It is no wonder, for I 

167 


i68 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


have grown old so fast these last few years. I am 
Jacob Vernier, your father’s butler.” 

‘‘You are welcome,” said the young man, eagerly 
grasping the hand of the old servant. “ Now I shall 
hear from my friends. Are they well? ” 

“ This packet will explain everything to you, 
sir,” replied the butler evasively. 

Forebodings of evil tidings paled the officer’s 
cheek. Bidding the guard give the butler some 
refreshments, the young man excused himself and 
hastened to his own room to peruse the contents 
of the packet. There were two letters, one from 
his friend, Conrad Chenoweth, and the other from 
his father. He read the latter one first. It was as 
follows: 

“T/y dear son: 

“ When you receive this communication I shall 
be no more. To-morrow I am to be executed like 
a common criminal, by the order of Alva’s Blood 
Council. I, the Burgomaster of Antwerp, a loyal 
citizen and a sincere Catholic, to die like a felon — 
the thought is intolerable. I had hoped that your 
service to the State would save me from such a ter- 
rible doom, but this is the way Philip rewards his 
loyal subjects. Your mother died a few weeks ago 
of a broken heart. Hilvardine has been abducted, 
and is either in the hands of the ruthless, Chancellor 
of Brabant or in the grasp of the Inquisition. 


A FORETASTE OF TERROR 


169 


“ My son, return to the Netherlands and avenge 
the wrongs done to your family. I can write no 
more. Jacob has promised to see that my last 
words reach you in safety. I do not wonder now at 
your Protestant leanings. Were I to live my life 
over again, I would espouse that cause. God bless 
you. Farewell. 

“ Anthony Van Straalen.’' 

Reynold Van Straalen let the letter fall from his 
hands, and sat as if carved out of stone. When the 
heart is suddenly stricken with a great grief, it is 
at first stunned into insensibility, and seems scarcely 
conscious of life. But presently, like a lava torrent, 
suffering courses through the throbbing arteries, 
suffering so exquisite that death alone seems ca- 
pable of affording relief. 

The young man bowed his head upon the table, 
and bitter, scalding tears coursed unchecked down 
his cheeks — burning tears, every one of which left 
a scar upon his heart. Mechanically he opened his 
friend’s letter. 

“My dear Reynold: 

“ I do not know whether you are aware of the 
reign of terror which has been instituted since the 
Iron Duke arrived with the flower of the Spanish 
army. Death, desolation and panic follow in his 
wake. He is here for a purpose — to subjugate the 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


170 

Netherlands. I deeply regret the terrible sorrows 
which have been laid upon you. Your father exe- 
cuted by Alva, your mother dead, your sister in the 
hands of enemies. You may not be aware of the 
fact that your father promised me the hand of your 
sister in marriage if I would rescue her from her 
fate. I am searching for Hilvardine day and night, 
but so far with no success. 

“ My father was a prisoner of the Inquisition for 
a short time, but made his escape and fled to Ger- 
many. My mother and sister are in Friesland. The 
Prince of Orange is an outlawed rebel, and is try- 
ing to raise an army with which to succor the Neth- 
erlands. May God bless his endeavors to save our 
unhappy country. 

Your devoted friend, 

Conrad Chenoweth.’’ 

A hasty summons from the commanding officer 
roused the young man from sad reflections. He 
found General Berlaymont reading some des- 
patches. 

“ Van Straalen,” he said, “ here are some letters 
for you which were inclosed in one of my father's 
letters. I was requested that they be delivered to 
you in safety, as they were important." 

Colonel Van Straalen opened one document, 
which proved to be from the Chancellor of Bra- 
bant, and stated that the house owned by the late 


A FORETASTE OF TERROR 171 

Burgomaster, Anthony Van Straalen of Antwerp, 
had been purchased by a Catholic, who was willing 
to assume all risks. The heirs to the estate both 
being heretics, the court had decided that they had 
forfeited all right to the estate of the said Burgo- 
master. The personal property of the deceased, 
which was considerable, would revert by law to the 
State. This was in substance the contents of the 
letter. 

The other document bore an imposing mitre on 
the seal. The contents were as follows: 

''To Heer Reynold Van Straalen, Colonel in His 
Majesty's army, stationed at Calais. 

" Sir: By special indulgence, I have given 
Mademoiselle La Tour permission to write you for 
the last time before becoming a nun at the convent 
of the Sacred Heart at Brussels. She takes the veil 
in a month. After that ceremony, all her relations 
with the outside world will cease. 

A servant of Jesus, 

“ Julius Ryder, 

Superior of the House of the Jesuits at Brussels.** 

" Have you had bad news? ” asked General Ber- 
laymont, noticing the officer’s agitation. 

Yes,” replied his companion, and he briefly re- 
lated the misfortunes which had befallen him. “ I 
beg you to excuse me from duty to-night.” 


172 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


In the privacy of his own room he examined the 
letter of Katharine La Tour. It was a reflection of 
the Superior’s letter, telling him of her purpose to 
become a nun, and relating the circumstances 
which had led her to make this decision. 

“ I hope, Reynold,” she concluded, that you 
will not feel that I have broken faith with you. You 
are still the dearest earthly friend I now have. Our 
faiths are so radically different, that it would not be 
wise for us to wed. I am a sincere Roman Catho- 
lic, and you are equally sincere as a Protestant. A 
husband and wife ought to walk hand in hand the 
pathway to heaven. So it seemed best for me to 
break this attachment of my childhood. 

“ I am happy in my choice of a home. If I could 
be assured that my act was not giving you a lasting 
pang, I should sing for joy at the prospect of a life 
wholly devoted to God. I shall always remember 
my friend and brother before the throne of grace. 

“ Katharine La Tour.” 

The young man crushed the letter in his hand. 
“ This is madness,” he said angrily, fanaticism 
run to seed. That wily priest has Katharine wholly 
under his influence.” The next morning Reynold 
Van Straalen sought his commanding officer. 

“ I wish to return to Brussels at once to find my 
sister and to remove her to a place of safety. I 
herewith resign my commission in the King’s army. 


^ FORETASTE OF TERROR 


173 


Please furnish me with the necessary passports 
which will enable me to reach the capital in safety.” 

The superior officer was full of sympathy for his 
friend. Although the son of Baron Berlaymont, 
he was tolerant, and he had learned that Protestants 
made more reliable soldiers than the Catholics. 

“ Have you friends of influence in Brussels who 
can assist you? ” he inquired. 

“ I place great hopes on Count Egmont. He 
has always befriended me since I served under him, 
and his influence at court is considerable.” 

If my father were not a fanatic, he might help 
you to secure your father’s estate, which is legally 
yours by the ancient law of the land. But why do 
I speak of him? He regards every heretic as a 
sworn enemy to the government. He has tried in 
vain to thrust his popish ideas down my throat. I 
know that the Protestants are as sincerely attached 
to the government as the oath of allegiance can 
make them. All they want is liberty of worship, 
and by the mass they have a right to demand that! 
Suppose the Regent should try to force the Catho- 
lics to worship some other way! What a howl of 
execration would ascend all over the land! Go, by 
all means, Van Straalen, and I will help you all that 
I can.” 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


A GRIM PAGE OF HISTORY. 

Alva was bent upon proving himself an accom- 
plished financier, as he was indisputably a skilful 
commander, and he promised his sovereign an an- 
nual income of five hundred thousand ducats from 
the confiscations which were to follow the execu- 
tions. For this purpose the Council of Blood was 
organized, which terrible tribunal has had no equal 
in the annals of history. So thoroughly did this 
institution perform its self-appointed task, that in 
less than three months from the time of its erection 
eighteen hundred human beings had suffered death. 
The Duke of Alva was president of this Council, 
and his coadjutors were appointed by himself. 
Noircarmes and Berlaymont, and two Spaniards, 
Del Rio and de Vargas, composed the working 
force of the Council. To each of these men the 
shedding of blood was an exhilarating pastime. 

The greatest terror prevailed. The grass began 
to grow in the streets of the cities. All business 
was suspended. The country was like a vast sepul- 
chre. Everywhere firesides were desolated. Surely 

174 


A GRIM PAGE OF HISTORY 


75 


the image-breaking was amply revenged. At the 
bar of divine judgment, where a single human life 
is counted of more value than any relics however 
revered, perhaps this terrible account will be justly 
balanced. 

It is not our purpose to drag the reader through 
the seas of blood, which the savage bigotry of that 
age caused to be spilled. The most meagre details 
of this human butchery are sufficient. But the 
finger of History points to a page in her record 
darker than the rest: it is the invasion of the Neth- 
erlands by the Duke of Alva. The deeds of atrocity 
and fiendish hate which are herein recorded are un- 
paralleled. The records of this period are numer- 
ous, and the truth is stated in unequivocal terms 
by both Dutchman and Spaniard. In the last 
analysis, it is out of the mouth of the Spaniard that 
the Spaniard is judged and condemned. 

Who can forget Naarden? Alva and his soldiers 
entered the town. The three thousand starved 
men, women and children were persuaded to lay 
down their arms and surrender peaceably, trusting 
to the fair speech of their conqueror. 

“ Place yourselves at once under my protec- 
tion!’' said Alva. ''I will conduct myself toward 
you as God shall give me grace. Do otherwise, 
and you can have neither truce nor friendship with 
me.” 

And how did the Iron Duke keep his promises? 


176 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Only sixty out of the three thousand human beings 
escaped. Every house was burned to the ground. 
This merciless butchery was accomplished to the 
sound of that terrible battle-cry, “ Santiago! San- 
tiago! Espaha! Espaha! a sangre, a came, a 
fuego, a sacco!” (St. James, Spain, blood, flesh, 
fire, sack!) 

And who can forget Mookerhyde, where the gal- 
lant Louis of Nassau fell, and Antwerp, and Haar- 
lem, and Leyden? Call them battles, if you please, 
if battle it is when sick men, helpless women and 
little children kneel to receive the death blow! At 
every step which Alva and his soldiers took, the 
lust for slaughter found ample satisfaction. 

Let us hasten from these scenes. The sickening 
smell of blood is everywhere, and God’s pure air is 
polluted by the odor. 

In the reception-room formerly used by the 
Regent for private audiences, sat the Duke of Alva 
and Baron Berlaymont. 

The pen-pictures of Alva, which history has kept 
alive, lead one to infer that he was a repulsive, 
blood-thirsty villain in appearance. Such was not 
the case. It is true that Alva possessed few virtues, 
and for a kind of patient vindictiveness and ferocity 
he was not excelled by the beasts of the forest, and 
but rarely equalled by any human being. Still there 
was nothing forbidding in his personal appearance. 


A GRIM PAGE OF HISTORY 


177 


He was tall and spare, with the precision of move- 
ment and erectness of figure which characterized 
the soldier. His complexion was sallow, and his 
eyes deep-set and gray. As he sat onposite Baron 
Berlaymont, his brow wrinkled with thought, he 
looked more like a scholar than a general. A long 
silver3^-white beard descended in two streams upon 
his breast, and added to the dignity of his presence. 

“ The people of Antwerp desire mediation,” the 
Baron was saying. “ Would it not be well to relax 
severity, at least for a time? I judge the miscreants 
are thoroughly subdued.” 

Alva regarded his companion haughtily. “ Me- 
diation,” he said at length, in a harsh voice, “ I 
came to the Netherlands to conquer, not to me- 
diate! Do you think I am afraid of the burghers 
of Antwerp? In my day I have crushed men of 
iron. Shall I fear these men of butter? As to the 
other matter about which you spoke a few moments 
ago: you wish me to grant you certain powers, 
which will enable you to conduct a system of es- 
pionage disastrous to the enemies of the King.” 

“ That is what I stated, your Excellency.” 

“ I am not sure that this is a wise thing for me 
to do,” said Alva thoughtfully. “ I have always 
been in the habit of attending to hazardous exper- 
iments myself. I do not like to trust such matters 
to unknown hands.” 

“ I feel confident that I could greatly assist your 


178 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Excellency if you would favor me with your con- 
fidence. I have the advantage over you in one par- 
ticular: I know these heretic rebels thoroughly. I 
understand their methods and their motives better 
than a stranger and a foreigner possibly could. 
And as to my loyalty to the King, the odium which 
attaches to my name on my native soil ought to 
assure you on that point.” 

Alva was silent for a few moments, then he said. 

Do you think that you could decoy the Prince of 
Orange back to Holland? If we do not catch that 
man we have accomplished nothing.” 

I cannot hope to succeed where the Duke of 
Alva has failed,” replied the Baron. “ There is one 
thing to be said in favor of Prince William: he is 
not in leading strings. He knows his own mind, 
and no man living can sway him against his will.’’ 

You are right. Would that I could capture 
that smooth-tongued, lying hypocrite, pretending 
to be a loyal subject of Philip and concocting trea- 
sonable schemes in his fertile brain all the while. 
Place that man within my grasp, Baron Berlay- 
mont, and you shall name your own price for your 
services.” 

“ I cannot do that,” said the Baron. “ It would 
be folly for me to hold out any such prospect to 
you. Prince William is in Germany on his own es- 
tates. We cannot so much as lay a finger on him. 
But fortunately for us, the Prince’s followers are 


A GRIM PAGE OF HISTORY 


179 


less sagacious. I can find out the plans of the 
Prince and foil them, which will answer our pur- 
pose quite as well as to secure the person of 
Orange. He is too far away to exert his wonder- 
ful influence upon the people, and really at his dis^ 
tance I regard him as comparatively harmless. But 
you must grant me freedom of action along this 
line of tactics, else I can accomplish nothing. 
Grant me this, and I will guarantee to alienate the 
Prince and his followers.” 

“ Very well, Baron. Consider yourself as en- 
dowed with the necessary power. See that you 
make good use of it, for the authority of God and 
the supremacy of the King.” 

“ Thanks, your Excellency.” 

The Baron retired after saluting the Duke. 

Alva immediately summoned his confidential ad- 
viser, Juan Vargas, and laid the matter before him. 
“ It goes against the grain,” said the Duke, that 
I am compelled against my better judgment to take 
this Fleming into my confidence.” 

Perhaps he will be able to serve you,” returned 
Vargas. 

That is just the point. He can serve me, and I 
do not wish to be under obligations to a single 
Netherlander, good or bad.” 

When you are through using him you can 
easily put him out of the way,” suggested Vargas. 

I do not feel so sure of that. If this man were 


i8o 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


not so prominent socially, the matter would be less 
difficult. But he is a rich nobleman, a loyal subject 
of the King, and a devoted Catholic. What just 
cause could I have for removing him? It is expe- 
dient for us to at least keep up the semblance of 
justice.” 

I have a plan,” said Vargas. “ Betray the 
Baron into the hands of the heretic rebels. They 
will be only too glad to give him a short shrift.” 

“ That is precisely what we will do, Vargas. An 
unfortunate accident which leads us to send the 
Baron Berlaymont into the hands of his enemies 
will be a matter which the Netherlanders can dis- 
cuss at large. I shall thereby gain my end, and my 
hand will be invisible. We will spare him for a 
time, as he promises to be a valuable tool.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


WHAT THE MORROW BROUGHT. 

After the first few hours of bitter anguish were 
over, Reynold Van Straalen rose up a new man. 
No vain regrets, no curses passed his lips. The 
terrible weight of sorrow which had overtaken him 
was to him as the accolade of knighthood, singling 
him out because of his mighty sorrow and mighty 
wrong, as the outspoken champion in the cause of 
liberty and truth. 

Before his departure he was summoned again to 
meet his superior officer. 

“ I have been thinking, comrade, what I can do 
to help you. Your case is desperate! Why do you 
not give up your Protestant notions and join the 
winning side? ” 

“ Because I have a conscience, and I must heed 
its dictum or suffer.” 

I expected some such reply as that,” said the 
general, good humoredly. “ You will die for a 
scruple yet. Now as to myself, the few prayers I 
say in the course of a year could be spoken in one 

i8i 


i 82 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


church as well as another. But probably we shall 
always differ on that point. Seriously, I think your 
chances of fulfilling your mission are rather slim, 
but if any one can help you find your sister, it is 
that charming creature Dona Isidore de Cisneros.” 

“ A Spanish lady! ” said Reynold in dismay. Is 
there a Spaniard in whom one can put faith? ” 

'‘You can trust Dona Isidore,” replied General 
Berlaymont. " She lives in Brussels with her sis- 
ter, who married a wealthy Fleming. They are all 
stanch Catholics. If Dona Isidore espouses your 
sister’s cause, as I expect she will, your success is 
assured. She is a born schemer, and her beauty, 
wealth and wit have made her a leader in the best 
society in Brussels.” 

" She will hardly interest herself in a stranger, 
and a heretic at that,” replied Reynold. 

“ Please give Dona Isidore this letter which I 
have written, and I shall be greatly disappointed if 
she does not interest herself in your affairs. See 
here, unbeliever,” he added, throwing back his coat 
and exhibiting a knot of scarlet ribbon fastened 
with an opal, " I am privileged to wear Dona Isi- 
dore’s colors, and if she has remained faithful, she 
will be ready to do me this slight favor.” 

" I thank you, general, for your kind interest 
in my case, and hope that success will crown your 
scheme. I have your permission to depart to- 
day? ” 


WHAT THE MORROW BROUGHT 183 


“ Certainly, but return to me just as soon as your 
commissions are executed.” 

“ That is impossible. I herewith tender my res- 
ignation as officer in the King’s army. If my sword 
leaves its scabbard again, it will be to help drive 
the hated Spaniard from our free soil. It will never 
be drawn in the service of a perjured and ungrate- 
ful King. Hold my resignation a month, and if at 
the expiration of that time you hear nothing from 
me, send it to headquarters. I must use my mili- 
tary dress to help me pass unquestioned over the 
country.” 

“ I am sorry to lose you. Van Straalen. I am 
just ordered to send what men I can spare for an 
expedition into France, to help Catharine de 
Medici subjugate 'he Huguenots. I had thought 
of entrusting you with this mission, although I 
fancy it would not be to your liking.” 

‘'Decidedly not! I should much rather join 
hands with the Huguenots than to figFt against 
them. It is time that I left the army, for I cannot 
slay the defenders of the faith I profess. I will now 
say good-by, and hasten on my journey. My 
father’s servant will accompany me.” 

Had the country been free of access to travellers, 
the distance from the French frontier to Brussels 
could have been traversed in a comparatively short 
time. The chief danger lay in encountering bands 
of common soldiers, who were reconnoitering the 


184 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


country and seeking to cut off communication be- 
tween the towns and cities. These reckless sol- 
diers had but little love for officers of the army or 
navy, and would have considered it a huge joke to 
run across a solitary officer and hang him to the 
limb of a tree. 

Both Colonel Van Straalen and the butler were 
well mounted, and they rode over the French bor- 
der without encountering any opposition. 

The first day and night passed without incident. 
As they journeyed through Holland, Alva’s foot- 
prints were clearly defined in the desolate towns 
and the ruins of comfortable homes. What had 
once been a thrifty and populous country was rap- 
idly becoming a wasted and ruined region. 

The travellers avoided the main road and fol- 
lowed a circuitous route to avoid observation. The 
country roads were rough, and their progress was 
necessarily slow. Toward sunset of the second day 
a sound of horses’ feet in their rear startled them. 
Looking back they espied a party of soldiers. The 
fugitives urged their horses forward, but the jaded 
beasts could not respond. The soldiers gained on 
them, and a shot rang out on the still air. 

“ I am wounded. Master Colonel,” said the but- 
ler. Press forward without me.” 

“ Never, Jacob. Keep in the saddle a few mo- 
ments longer, if possible. Our only safety lies in 
leaving the highway.” 


WHAT THE MORROW BROUGHT 185 


A bend in the road concealed them from obser- 
vation. The twilight approached rapidly in this 
latitude, and it was with some difficulty that Rey- 
nold spied a faint path leading apparently into the 
depths of a forest. The increasing darkness would 
cause this retreat to be overlooked by the soldiers, 
and without any hesitation both men plunged into 
the friendly shadows. 

After following the windings of the trail for quite 
a distance, and hearing no indications of pursuit, 
they dismounted, it being too dark and the path 
too uneven to continue riding. The sombre shade 
of interlacing boughs made the darkness intense, 
and not a sound broke the stillness. After stum- 
bling about in the hope that the path must end 
somewhere, they came at length upon a little clear- 
ing with some indications of civilization. Before 
them were a few fields, at some time under cultiva- 
tion, but now neglected and grown up to brush and 
weeds. In the centre of this clearing were the 
blackened ruins of what had once been a farm- 
house. The chimney and part of the walls remained 
standing, and the charred fragments of what was 
once the roof still clung to one corner of the ruins. 

In spite of the gruesome look of the place, both 
men hailed its appearance with thankfulness. It 
would afford them a comfortable shelter for the 
night. The butler had taken the precaution be- 
fore starting of providing himself with flint, steel 


i86 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


and tinder, and Reynold, seizing some half-burnt 
fragments of wood and bits of brush and leaves, 
soon had a cheerful fire blazing on the wide hearth. 
The butler had fallen half unconscious to the 
ground, faint from the loss of blood. Reynold made 
a hasty examination of the wound. A glance con- 
vinced him that the injuries were fatal. It was a 
question if the old man would ever regain con- 
sciousness. 

Reynold poured a spoonful of brandy between 
the closed lips, but the wounded man only moaned. 
Covering him with his own cape the young officer 
paced back and forth. The trees rustled softly in 
the night wind, the stars twinkled overhead, and no 
sound of life was heard except the occasional neigh- 
ing of the horses tethered near by. A bat flitted 
by, chasing moths. The owls began to hoot in the 
trees; the weird churring of the night-jar and the 
call of quails in the distant fields thrilled through 
the air. His reflections were sad. “ How strangely 
ordered are the lives of men and women,” he 
thought. “ These walls once sheltered a happy 
household. Now their home is a pile of blackened 
ruins and its inmates are scattered or dead.” Then 
he thought of his own home in the possession of 
strangers; his father and mother dead and his sis- 
ter perhaps drinking a cup of anguish bitterer than 
death, while the woman he loved was sundered for- 
ever from him. 


WHAT THE MORROW BROUGHT 187 


He groaned as he realized his powerlessness to 
relieve the terrible situation. “ O God! ” he cried, 
“ dost thou set no limit to the power of cunning 
wickedness to entrap and slay the unwary weak? 
Would that I could avenge my wrongs! ’’ 

The words came to him on the night wind, 
‘‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord 
of Hosts.’^ 

A sound from within caused him to hasten to 
the servant’s side. By the flickering light of the 
fire he saw that the old man was dying. He lifted 
his head, and Jacob opened his eyes. 

“ I thought it was morning! ” he murmured in 
weak tones, and all was over. It truly was the 
morning for him, on whom the brightness of ever- 
lasting day was dawning. 

A slight noise from outside caused the officer to 
glance around. Peering into the ruins was the 
face of a man, wild, vicious and unkempt, his rem- 
nants of clothes hanging in tatters about his wasted 
body. The semblance of manhood was well-n’gh 
obliterated from the gaunt face, and his expression 
was that of a famished wild beast, crouching to 
spring upon his prey. Drawing his sword Reynold 
advanced upon the strange apparition, which fled 
with a mocking laugh into the depths of the forest.* 


CHAPTER XXV. 


DONA ISIDORE. 

Through the rest of that long night Colonel 
Van Straalen did not dare to close his eyes in slum- 
ber. The thought that some living being was in 
his vicinity disquieted him. He stirred the fire 
again and sat down before the glowing embers. 
He thought of Katharine La Tour. Should he ever 
see her sweet face again? Yes, perhaps in far off 
years, when she had become a Sister of some Or- 
der, as far removed from him as heaven from earth. 
“ By all that was right and true, she should have 
been mine!” he said half aloud. But now! She 
was his as a dream might be, something intangible, 
something he possessed but could not hold. Her 
sweet face seemed to mock him from out the fire- 
light, like a ghost of the past, and the echo of her 
musical laugh seemed borne to his ears on the 
night wind. He realized as never before the power 
of love, and his heart grew sick as he set this ecstasy 
over against the misery and loneliness which 
stretched before him like a desert. 


i88 


DONA ISIDORE 


189 


With the first streak of dawn, he hastily dug a 
grave and laid the body of the faithful servant to 
rest. Then mounting his horse he retraced his way 
to the road which he had left the night previous. 
The country was yet wrapped in repose. Not a 
breath stirred the leaves of the trees, not a sound 
broke the stillness. Then the sun awoke, the birds 
carolled their matins, the trees rustled, and the offi- 
cious chanticleer announced that another day was 
born. 

As the young officer rode through the desolated 
towns and villages, these words came unbidden to 
his lips: 


“The hunting tribes of air and earth, 

Respect the brethren of their birth; 

Man only mars kind Nature’s plan, 

And turns the fierce pursuit on man.” 

All nature was at peace. Only the slow circling 
of vultures, whose heavy movements bespoke sa- 
tiety, told of the terrible carnage which they had 
eagerly witnessed. 

Entering Brussels the next morning, Reynold 
was surprised to find that some event of importance 
was being celebrated. In the Great Square three 
thousand Spanish troops were drawn up in battle 
array about a scaffold. In this Square all the great 
public events were celebrated, from brilliant tour- 
naments to ghastly executions. It was evident that 


190 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


an execution had just taken place, for tears, groans 
and execrations rose from the mass of human be- 
ings who crowded about the scaffold. Two heads 
were placed on pikes and exposed to the public 
gaze. 

“ Who are these unfortunate victims? ” asked the 
young officer to a man standing by his side. 

‘‘ You must be a stranger in Brussels to ask such 
a question! ” was the reply. 

“ I am.” 

'' Then I will tell you. Yonder is the foulest act 
which tyranny has dared to inflict on this suffering 
people. Counts Egmont and Horn, both devoted 
Catholics and loyal soldiers, have been beheaded by 
the order of the Duke of Alva.” 

What crime had they committed? ” asked Rey- 
nold, in dismay. 

“ None. Alva has always been jealous of Eg- 
mont since his brilliant military victories at St. 
Quentin and Gravelines. These victories were 
gained contrary to Alva's advice. He has hated 
Egmont ever since. Count Horn was Egmont's 
most intimate friend, so he had to die. The Prince 
of Orange would share the same fate, if Alva could 
only induce him to return to the Netherlands.” 

‘‘ Accursed be the day when the Spaniards set 
foot upon this soil! ” said another bystander. 

Erom the outskirts of the throng came the sound 
of a woman’s voice, low and sweet, singing a hymn: 


DONA ISIDORE 


91 


“ The Spaniards are come, 

And the night’s dark and dreary; 

Now watch all ye pious, 

Steadfast and unweary. 

Despond not, my people. 

The Lord is your stay; 

He hears the afflicted 
And soon breaks the day !” 

The voice ended in a mournful wail. Colonel 
Van Straalen started to find the singer, but a de- 
taining hand was laid on his arm. 

“ Come away at once, my friend. You are at- 
tracting too much attention. Yonder poor woman 
is past help. It is crazy Margaret, who haunts the 
Square every time there is a public execution. Poor 
woman. Her husband and father were executed, 
and her babe sickened and died.” 

As they passed near the poor creature, Reynold 
noticed that she was young, and would have been 
beautiful had not sorrow and madness wasted her 
frame. 

''The time is so long. Seigneurs!” she said 
plaintively, as her eye fell on their compassionate 
faces. " Will not the good Lord come soon and 
redeem His people, as He has promised? ” 

"Yes, poor woman, I hope so, I believe sol” 
said Reynold. " This nation will not always sub- 
mit to the rule of tyranny.” 

“ Despond not, my people. 

The Lord is your stay; 

He hears the afflicted 

And soon breaks the day ! ” 


192 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


These words rang in his ears, not as the feeble 
plaint of a suffering woman, but as a prophecy of 
victory. 

“ Colonel Van Straalen, we must hasten,” said 
his companion. “You are in great danger of be- 
ing recognized, and if so, your arrest would speedily 
follow.” 

“ How does it happen that you know nie? ” said 
Reynold. 

“ I am Conrad Chenoweth! ” was the whispered 
reply. “ Let us talk no more until we are safely in 
my quarters.” 

They threaded the streets of Brussels in silence, 
until they came to the part inhabited by the poorer 
classes. They entered a long, dark alley, which had 
many crooked turns, and paused before one of the 
poorest houses. The advocate knocked gently 
three times. The door was opened cautiously by a 
stout Flemish woman. On seeing Conrad she bade 
him enter. They both went inside and the door 
was securely bolted. 

“ Gretchen,” said Conrad, “ I have brought a 
dear friend, who, like myself, is a fugitive. Can you 
give him shelter? He is a Protestant.” 

“ Yes, Heer Chenoweth. I will gladly shelter 
any of the persecuted followers of the reformed 
faith, and any of your friends are thrice welcome. 
I have not forgotten when we lived in Antwerp 
how your good father took care of us in our sick- 


DONA ISIDORE 


193 


ness and trouble, and never would accept a riks- 
daler from us in payment for his services. As long- 
as I have a shelter, you and your friends can share 
it.’’ 

I thank you for your generosity, my good 
woman,” said Colonel Van Straalen. “ I hope to 
execute my mission here as soon as possible and 
then join the army of our noble Prince.” 

As soon as the two young men were alone, Rey- 
nold said eagerly, “ Conrad, have you found Hil- 
vardine yet? I know she is the lodestone which 
keeps you as well as myself from immediately join- 
ing the army of the Prince.” 

Alas, no! ” said his friend. “ She was abducted 
from her home and brought to Brussels at the in- 
stigation of the Chancellor of Brabant, but farther 
than that I can learn nothing. All clue to her 
whereabouts is carefully concealed. I have haunted 
the premises of the Chancellor, have made myself 
on good terms with some of the servants in his 
household, but either they cannot or will not di- 
vulge the secret.” 

‘‘ Then nothing remains for us except to try and 
interest Doha Isidore de Cisneros in the case,” said 
Reynold. 

“ I know the lady well by sight,” said Conrad, 
but she is inaccessible.” 

“ I am assured that this will find a way to her 
heart,” said Reynold, producing General Berlay- 


194 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


months letter, and relating the conversation which 
had passed between himself and his commanding 
officer. 

Conrad’s face brightened perceptibly. Who 
knows but what a woman’s wit will unravel the 
mystery. Let us wait upon this lady this evening.” 

About eight o’clock they started on their errand. 
The streets were in semi-darkness, for the great 
gloomy houses were but dimly lighted, in order not 
to attract attention. A Spanish patrol was the only 
sign of life in the deserted streets. They succeeded 
in avoiding this officer of the law, and ascended the 
steps of an elegant mansion. 

The butler informed them that Doha de Cisneros 
was within and at leisure. They gave the servant 
their names, and were ushered into the reception- 
room to await her appearance. 

A rustle of draperies announced her coming, and 
directly the lady was in the room. Certainly Gen- 
eral Berlaymont had not exaggerated when he pro- 
nounced her beauty unusual, even in a land famous 
for its beautiful wonien. She was in the flower of 
youth, and certainly no artist could do justice to 
the creamy softness of her skin, the dark lustre of 
her hair, and the elusive depths of her black eyes. 
Altogether she was a brilliant and charming Span- 
ish lady. 

Both gentlemen arose and saluted her. 


DONA ISIDORE 195 

“ This is Doha Isidore de Cisneros? ” said Rey- 
nold. 

“ Yes, Seigneur. To what am I indebted for the 
honor of your acquaintance? ” she added, with a 
delightful accent. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


A WOMAN OF TACT. 

For answer, Conrad Van Straalen handed the 
lady the letter which General Berlaymont had writ- 
ten. 

A slight fxush crept into Dona Isidore’s face as 
she read the contents. Then she said: ‘‘Seigneurs, 
my friend is pleased to place a high value on my 
powers of diplomacy. I shall be glad to serve you 
in so interesting a matter. You are the brother of 
Mistress Van Straalen? ” 

The officer bowed. 

“ And Heer Chenoweth is her lover, I surmise. 
Here are all the materials for a charming romance. 
Nothing so amuses me as intrigue, and I pledge 
myself to do my best for you.” 

“ We cannot thank you enough, Doha de Cis- 
neros,” began Conrad, but the Spanish lady cut 
short his expressions of gratitude. 

“Wait, I beg of you,” she said, “before you 
thank me. Perhaps I shall fail, after all. Please 
call in two days and learn of my success or failure.” 

196 


A WOMAN OF TACT 


197 


‘‘ May the good Lord reward your efforts,” said 
the officer. 

After the departure of her visitors, Doha Isidore 
called her confidential maid. 

“ Rita, you are well acquainted with the ser- 
vants in Chancellor Maas’ family. Did you ever 
hear them say anything about Hilvardine Van 
Straalen, the daughter of the Burgomaster at Ant- 
werp? ” 

“ Oh, yes, Doha. The Chancellor fancied him- 
self in love with the girl’s pretty face; but Mistress 
Van Straalen had such a sharp tongue and abused 
him so soundly that he tired of her directly and 
gave up all thoughts of wedding the maiden.” 

“ Is she still a prisoner in the Chancellor’s 
house? ” 

Oh, no! She remained there only a short time. 
At the advice of Monseigneur Ryder she was thrust 
into the prison of the Inquisition, because she was 
a heretic. Whether she is still there or has been 
condemned and executed, I know not.” 

“ How did you learn all this, Rita? ” 

'' From one of the servants at the Chancellor’s. 
She played the eavesdropper and learned the se- 
cret.” 

That will do, Rita! ” said her mistress. 

Dona Isidore sat for some time lost in thought. 
Then she said decidedly, “ If that girl is in prison, 
she cannot be released without an order from Alva. 


198 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


I must visit his Grace to-morrow morning and ob- 
tain an order from him, which will set the maid at 
liberty. He is a hard person to deal with, but he 
shall grant my request or my name is not de Cis- 
neros! ” 

The Duke of Alva was sitting at a table with 
some charts and writing materials before him. He 
was in excellent humor, having just crushed an in- 
cipient rebellion in Friesland. 

An attendant announced that a lady desired to 
see him. 

Admit her! ” said the Duke. An elegant figure 
swept into the room, dressed in rich yet tasteful 
garments. As she threw aside her veil the stern 
features of the Iron Duke relaxed. 

I am highly honored by the presence of Doha 
de Cisneros,” he said gallantly. “ Be seated, my fair 
countrywoman.” 

“ I called, your Grace, especially to congratu- 
late you on your signal victory in North Holland, 
also to join your hosts of admirers in praising the 
statue which has been reared to commemorate that 
event.” 

It was true that after this victory Alva caused a 
colossal statue of himself to be erected at Antwerp, 
with this inscription on the pedestal: 

'‘To Ferdinand Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of 
Alva, Governor of the Netherlands under Philip 
the Second: for having extinguished sedition, 


A WOMAN OF TACT 


199 


chastised rebellion, restored religion, secured* jus- 
tice, established peace. To the King’s most faith- 
ful minister this monument is erected.” 

Alva could rightfully take his place beside that 
imperious representative of royalty, Louis XIV, in 
his worship of self. 

The Duke, thawing before the charms of this 
beautiful young Spaniard like an icicle in an April 
sun, was soon showering compliments in the florid 
language of his native land. 

“ I shall consider it a pleasure to grant you any 
favor as a token of my esteem,” he said. 

Who can explain the fascination which beauty 
ever inspires in the human breast? It has wielded 
a tremendous power for good and evil since the 
world began. Dona Isidore was conscious of her 
power, and she exerted herself to bring the Iron 
Duke into her train of satellites. 

“ I will take you at your word, your Grace,” said 
the lady. “ I have become interested in the condi- 
tion of one of the captives in yonder prison, a 
maiden named Hilvardine Van Straalen. I desire 
very much her pardon, for I have set my heart on 
having this girl for my companion.” 

A haughty look came into the Duke’s face. He 
was not used to being sued for favors of this nature. 
For a moment he hesitated. Then a glance at his 
lovely petitioner decided him. 


200 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


“ You have asked a singular request, fair lady. 
Presumably the girl is a heretic.” 

‘‘ I think it more than likely, your Grace, but I 
will see to it that she is speedily converted. She 
will be so grateful to me for her release that I doubt 
not she will readily do me the small favor of turn- 
ing Catholic.” 

It is establishing a bad precedent. Were this 
matter to become known, I should directly be over- 
whelmed with petitions of a similar nature.” 

‘‘ I assure your Grace that I will act with the 
greatest discretion. The matter can be done 
quietly, and no one need be the wiser. She can be 
removed from prison in the night, and I will see 
that she is many leagues from here the next day. 
Really, Duke, I shall take it to heart if you do not 
grant my request.” 

‘‘ How did you learn the girl’s history. Dona? ” 
asked Alva, suspiciously. 

My maid was gossiping about the affair. It 
seemed a pity that one so young and who had suf- 
fered so much should languish in prison. I assure 
your Grace that it was human kindness, pure and 
simple, that brought me hither, and I trusted in 
your goodness and sense of justice to grant my re- 
quest.” 

There has never been a tyrant who did not like 
to be called good and just. These words appealed 
to the Duke of Alva. Judicious flattery was the 


A WOMAN OF TACT 


201 


one lever which could raise this piece of granite 
from its foundations. 

He drew his writing materials toward him and 
wrote a few lines on a piece of paper. 

“ There, _ Doha de Cisneros, the girl is yours. 
You are an eloquent pleader. I do not think that 
I have done a wise thing, but I simply cannot re- 
fuse you.” 

“ You are very gracious and very kind,” said the 
lady, giving her hand to Alva, which he gallantly 
kissed. “ I trust that all your schemes for over- 
throwing the Dutch may prosper. For my part, I 
am sick of this amphibious country, with its dikes, 
its canals, and its flatness. I long for beautiful, 
sunny, mountainous Spain!” 

“ You fairly make me homesick, Doha,” said the 
Duke. “ I hope to subjugate the country soon, 
that I may return to my native land.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


A WATCH IN THE NIGHT. 

The Superior of the House of the Jesuits sat in 
his sanctum lost in thought. The beautiful faces 
from the walls smiled a gracious welcome, and the 
grand tones of the cathedral organ still floated in 
the air, but he heeded them not. Looking impa- 
tiently at the clock, he muttered, “ It is time he 
were here! ” 

As if in answer to his summons, the figure of a 
man appeared at the open door. He stood with 
cringing servility before the Jesuit. It was the sol- 
dier to whom Monseignenr Ryder had given a 
commission on the night of Princess Elizabeth 
Stuyvesant’s death. 

“Ah, Caspar Swarte! I should think it about 
time that you appeared to give an account of your- 
self. Why have you dallied so long? Know you 
not that the business of the Church requires 
haste? 

“Pardon, your reverence! Believe me, I have 
not wasted the time. For months I have followed 
Francis Junius about, but each time, when I 

202 


A WATCH IN THE NIGHT 


203 


thought his capture certain, he slipped from my 
grasp. He must be in league with the devil, for he 
has the faculty of making himself invisible at any 
time.” 

“ Enough of this! ” said the Jesuit impatiently. 
“ Make no more excuses, but come to the point in 
hand. Why are you here to-night? ” 

“ To tell you that the Huguenot preacher is ar- 
rested, and to-morrow he dies.” 

The stern look on the priest’s face changed to 
one of satisfaction. 

“This is good news indeed, Swarte! You are 
pardoned for your long silence and your delay in 
executing my command. Receive your reward,” 
he continued, handing the man a bag of florins. 
“ Continue your faithful services to the Church 
and you shall receive ample compensation in this 
world’s goods. Go, my son, and my blessing at- 
tend your steps.” 

The soldier departed with a smiling face. 

Hugo Berlaymont was sitting in his uncle’s li- 
brary, his head bowed with grief, and the tears 
coursing down his cheeks at the news which Fritz 
had brought him of the capture of Junius and his 
execution on the morrow. 

“ It cannot be, it must not be! ” said Hugo be- 
tween his sobs. “ My dear pastor shall not die 
like a felon. I will plead with my uncle for his life.” 


204 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Although carefully nurtured in the lap of luxury, 
Hugo Berlaymont had his trials. Many of the 
members of the reformed faith frowned upon him 
because he had not come out boldly and espoused 
their cause. 

“ A man cannot be called a Christian who fears 
to acknowledge himself as one: who places the 
opinions of his fellows, or his own human interests 
and affections, before the glory of God,’’ they said. 

Hugo was a sensitive lad, and he felt these words 
of reproof keenly. He was strong to suffer himself, 
but he could not bear to inflict suffering upon 
others. He loved his uncle truly, and he knew that 
to avow himself a Protestant would be to fill his 
uncle’s heart with the bitterest anguish. He had 
talked the matter over with Junius. 

“ I have often felt, my good pastor, that this de- 
ception was not becoming in a follower of Christ; 
but by making a confession of my faith I shall not 
only redouble my uncle’s persecutions, but I shall 
also be deprived of the power of assisting the breth- 
ren when they come to me secretly, as they have 
felt free to do. I want to do right. Decide the 
question for me, dear pastor Junius.” - 

The preacher looked into the guileless face of 
the boy who had grown very dear to his heart, and 
placed his arm about his shoulder. 

“ My dear lad, I feel that you are not doing 
wrong, considering the peculiar circumstances in 


A WATCH IN THE NIGHT 


205 


which you are placed. You are still under age, and 
subject to the authority of your uncle. Your con- 
duct must be governed largely by his commands. 
If your conscience does not condemn you, continue 
for the present in the same course. But remember 
this, my boy: when God’s call comes to you to con- 
fess Him before men, you cannot mistake His voice. 
Then see to it that you heed that voice and obey 
that summons, even though it costs you your life.” 

A footstep sounded in the hall, and presently 
Baron Berlaymont entered the library. 

“ How is this, Hugo? Moping in the dark, as 
usual? ” 

The servants brought in candles and stirred the 
dying embers of a wood fire into a cheery blaze. 

‘‘Tears, nephew! Tears, I verily believe. How 
can you weep when the Church is on the eve of a 
splendid victory? Do you not know, my boy, that 
Francis Junius has at last been betrayed into our 
hands, and to-morrow he dies? Yes, thank God, 
that dangerous heretic dies. Would that I could 
be there to witness the execution, but an order 
from Alva demands my presence elsewhere.” 

“ Uncle, I have a favor to ask of you,” said 
Hugo, rising and standing with shining eyes before 
the Baron. 

“ Name it. I am in a mood to grant almost any 
reasonable request,” was the reply. 


2o6 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


“ Spare the life of Francis Junius, and I will bless 
you and serve you all my days.” 

'‘The life of Francis Junius! ” echoed his uncle 
in amazement. Boy, are you mad? What is that 
Huguenot preacher to you, that you should dare 
to plead for his worthless life? ” 

" Uncle, he once saved me from a horrible 
death,” was the reply, and then Hugo related the 
mishap which he had met with his horse, which 
came so near ending his career. “ I cannot see my 
benefactor die and not lift a finger to save him. I 
love him for this act of kindness. It was at the 
peril of his own life that he rescued me. O, spare 
him, uncle, for my sake! ” 

" Peace, foolish boy! ” said the Baron. " I 
should be glad to grant you any ordinary request, 
but you have asked an impossibility; Alva signed 
the death-warrant with his own hand. Besides, I 
am convinced that the heretic deserves death, and 
no word of mine shall stay the hand of the execu- 
tioner. I am glad if the miscreant performed one 
good act in his life. It will be so much to his credit 
in the other world. Come, cheer up, my lad, and 
cease shedding tears like a woman.” 

With a heavy heart Hugo retired early to his 
room. He drew a copy of the New Testament, 
which Junius had given him, from its hiding-place, 
and began to read. He turned the pages over and 


A WATCH IN THE NIGHT 


207 


over, and these words seemed written in letters of 
fire on every page: “ Stand Forth! ” 

Whichever way he turned, those words were be- 
fore his eyes. Had God’s call come to him at last? 
Did God bid him to stand forth on the morrow, and 
testify for Him in the market-place? He fell upon 
his knees and offered up this prayer: ‘‘ O Lord, 
help me to save pastor Junius. Permit me, weak 
and unworthy though I be, to suffer in the place of 
that noble minister, and forgive my sincere but mis- 
guided uncle.” 

Hugo rose from his knees with his burden light- 
ened. In some way he felt that his prayer would 
be answered and that the arm of Omnipotence 
would enable him to save his friend. How he was 
to accomplish this he did not know. He believed 
that God would show him the path of duty so 
clearly that he would make no mistake. With this 
thought he laid himself down to rest, and slept the 
tranquil sleep of a child. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE. 

The morning for the execution of Francis 
Junius dawned clear and bright. Hugo Berlay- 
mont arose with the sun. He hardly knew what 
he was about to do, but he felt that God was lead- 
ing him and would show him each step of the way. 

Fritz was surprised at the interest which his 
young master evinced in the approaching execu- 
tion. Hitherto the young lord had listened shrink- 
ingly to any details of these affairs, and had even 
begged him to refrain from alluding to them in his 
presence. The sight of Hugo preparing to go to 
the market-place filled him with amazement and 
disgust. 

‘‘ Really, I did not know before that my young 
master had a taste for blood. He has inherited it, 
I suppose. They say such things will crop out 
sooner or later.’’ Aloud he said, '' Is it wise for 
you to go and see the sentence executed. Master 
Hugo? The patrols are strengthened, and the offi- 
cers fear a riot. It is no fit place for you.” 

Hugo looked at his servant with eyes which 

208 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


209 


seemed to see not. But the sound of a tolling 
bell in the distance awoke him from his dreams. 
Seizing his cap, he started on the run for the city. 
On sped the boy, as if on wings. He felt no fa- 
tigue. The thought uppermost in his mind was to 
get there before the prisoner arrived and somehow 
to rescue him. That noble man from whose lips 
he had heard the words of eternal life must not suf- 
fer death. His blood at least should not be upon 
his uncle’s head. 

A large crowd had already gathered, when Hugo 
arrived on the scene. It was with great difficulty 
that he forced himself through the dense throng, 
and at last stood before the horrible instrument of 
death. He gave one shuddering glance at the 
stake, the chains and the faggots, and then awaited 
the approach of the prisoner. The patrol of Span- 
ish soldiers about the stake was comparatively 
small. A large company had been drawn up on 
the outskirts of the crowd, but there were whis- 
pered words which reached Hugo’s ears to the 
effect that the military force about the prisoner 
was inadequate to secure him if the people could 
be aroused to action. 

The sound of drums was heard. “ He is coming! 
Junius is coming! ” The voices in the crowd were 
awed into silence. A path was made by the sol- 
diers through this seething mass of human beings, 
and the Huguenot preacher, securely bound and 


210 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


gagged, made his appearance. He looked worn 
and exhausted. Argument and even torture had 
been employed to make him recant, but his eyes 
glowed with the same old fire. Just now they 
were full of compassion as they rested on the grief- 
stricken multitude. Never again would they hear 
the old keen satire, the profound logic, the over- 
whelming tide of eloquence. These great literary 
and intellectual gifts were about to be hushed for- 
ever. 

By the side of Junius walked no less a personage 
than Monseigneur Ryder, who had exerted every 
art to try and bring this notorious heretic into the 
fold of the Church. He had been defeated, and a 
look of hatred gleamed in his eyes. He read the 
warrant, and then delivered the preacher over to 
the secular arm for punishment. The crowd surged 
back and forth in impotent rage and grief. 

At that moment a youthful figure sprang for- 
ward and stood beside the condemned man. 

“ Men of Brussels,” cried a passionate voice, '' if 
you be men in truth, help to liberate this godly 
man! ” 

The clear young voice rang out like a trumpet- 
call. Every eye was fastened on the beautiful face, 
which was aglow with a light not of earth. A ray 
of sunshine touched the bronze rings that curled 
over his fair brow, and his clear eyes gazed indig- 
nantly upon the silent, submissive crowd. 



“hold, men!” Page 210 




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A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


2II 


An electric current seemed to run through the 
hitherto passive spectators, and every eye was riv- 
eted on the daring speaker. He seemed to be little 
more than a boy in years, but ripened by religious 
enthusiasm into manhood. A half-suppressed 
sound swept over that dense throng — an ugly 
sound to hear from human throats, for it was the 
angry growl of the wild beast which lies sleeping 
but not dead in the breast of every man, civilize 
him as best you may. 

At first the burghers as well as the soldiers'were 
paralyzed by the sudden apparition. Then the peo- 
ple roused themselves, and cries of Freedom for 
the Protestants! Down with the papist blood- 
hounds! ” were heard. That young voice and in- 
spired face had broken the spell, and as hot, pas- 
sionate words poured from the lips of this apos- 
tle of freedom, every one hung spellbound on his 
words. Yet no one dared to act. Terror paralyzed 
every arm. It was only when, snatching a knife 
from a burgher’s belt, Hugo cut the cords which 
bound the prisoner, that the people responded. A 
mighty shout went up, Saved! Saved! ” as they 
seized Junius and passed him rapidly into the m^st 
of the crowd. Once lost in that seething mass of 
humanity, there was little danger of recapture. 

But what of Hugo? 

The soldiers roused from their stupor. Not rec- 
ognizing in the bold defender of the heretic 


212 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


preacher the timid, shrinking nephew of Baron 
Berlaymont, the captain of the guard shouted, Ye 
fools! Will you let both the prisoner and his lib- 
erator escape? Shoot him down like a dog, boy 
though he is! 

The men hesitated to obey this command. Then 
one of them said, '' It is Baron Berlaymont’s 
nephew. I dare not shoot the lad.” 

“ Is that so? ” said the captain. “ Hold, men! I 
retract my order! Hold, for Jesus’ sake! We will 
have the matter investigated. There must be some 
mistake.” 

But this last command came too late. A shot 
rang out on the startled air, and Hugo Berlaymont 
sank lifeless to the ground. 

Truly was it said, “ Greater love hath no man 
than this: that a man lay down, his life for his 
friend.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


LEAVES FROM A JOURNAL. 

An abiding faith in God will make an ordinary 
life sublime. Agatha Chenoweth’s religion was no 
half-hearted, conditional faith, no haggling across 
the counter of Infinity for the good things of this 
world, but a silent confidence in an overruling 
Providence, a submissive filial obedience, quiet in 
its development, yet including the whole divine 
mystery of spiritual growth. God was to her an 
all-wise Father, loving her while He chastened her; 
and her answering love was perfect in its childlike 
simplicity and trust. 

Such thoughts occupied Conrad Chenoweth’s 
mind as he read a packet of letters he had just re- 
ceived from his mother. To his surprise they were 
dated at Leyden. 

My dear Conrad: 

“ It has seemed wise for me to keep a journal of 
the events as they occur from time to time, so that 
if we are ever reunited we may look these records 
over, and recall the wondrous ways through which 

213 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


214 

God has led us. It will also help to relieve the 
tedium of the weary days and weeks of waiting. 

“ Of the journey to North Holland, I will say but 
little. It was long and comparatively uneventful. 
We came near falling into the hands of Spanish 
troopers, but were rescued each time by the 
‘ Gueulx.’ When we reached the river, which sepa- 
rated us from our destination, the ferryman utterly 
refused to be bribed to carry us across, fearing 
thereby he should lose his head. But a ^ Wild Beg- 
gar ’ rowed us over, for he declared his life was 
worthless, and he was willing, even proud, to risk 
it in so good a cause. 

‘‘ We reached in time the old farmhouse on the 
Zuyder Zee, where Lysken’s brother lived. It was a 
long, low building, close to the great dyke, against 
which the sea ever roared and tumbled. Lysken^s 
relatives were Lutherans, and kind, hospitable peo- 
ple have we found them to be, not indulging in the 
feeling of animosity toward the Calvinists which 
so disturbed the two bodies of Protestants in Ant- 
werp. 

To your little sister, our life in Friesland was 
one long holiday. She walked over the farm daily 
with old Job Segerson, fed the chickens and calves, 
and never wearied of watching the almost human 
solicitude of the parent storks for their young. 
These birds had erected a huge nest on the large 
chimney of the house. 


LEAVES FROM A JOURNAL 


215 


“ I am using the past tense advisedly, for a ter- 
rible misfortune befell us and all who lived in our 
vicinity. A great deluge has wiped out the whole 
of Friesland, and at least twenty thousand persons 
in this province alone have been drowned. Some- 
times it would seem as though for our sins God had 
turned His face from us. But, my dear son, the 
wrath of God is light, compared with the fury of 
man. He has sorely stricken us, but it is God’s 
hand still — and it is right. 

“ It was All Saints’ Day when the gale, which 
had been blowing for a week from the northeast, 
reached a climax. We knew that Job Segerson’s 
farm and all the farms about were many feet below 
the sea level, and for days the wind had blown the 
spray completely over the dyke into the meadows 
beyond. Still, we did not fear any immediate dan- 
ger. This great dyke had withstood the gales of 
centuries, and we felt confident it would weather 
this one. Besides, the wind could not always blow 
from the northeast. 

Despite our hopes, the storm continued un- 
abated. Day after day the wind blew steadily from 
the same quarter, as if determined to bring death 
and destruction. The relentless waters of the At- 
lantic Ocean were piled up against the dyke, and 
we all felt that we must prepare for the worst. The 
cattle were turned loose from the barn to make shift 
for themselves. The members of the family went 


2I6 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


to the upper rooms of the house. Boats were sus- 
pended from the windows. 

'' Over and above the roar of the wind we heard 
the artillery of the great waves laying siege to the an- 
cient dyke. Yet we were not afraid. Job read to us 
from his old Dutch Bible consoling words of Scrip- 
ture, and commended us all to the mercy of God. 
We all felt that we were in the hands of a loving 
Father, who would care for us even in this dire ex- 
tremity. We feared the violence of man, but the 
roaring and thundering of the mighty sea did not 
terrify our hearts, although it filled us with awe. 
The One who commanded the winds and the waves 
was our friend. We could safely trust Him. The 
crash came at last. The great dyke gave way, and 
the raging waters soon swept away everything in 
their path. 

“ When Job's house began to tremble on its 
foundations, the boats were lowered and we all em- 
barked on the seething waters. We were rescued 
by a schooner commanded by de la Marck, and on 
board this ‘ Water Beggar ’ were conveyed to Ley- 
den, where we have taken up our residence for the 
present. I have enclosed some extracts of your 
father's letters, which doubtless you will be glad to 
read." 

‘L . . I have already written several letters to 
you, my beloved wife, but have as yet received no 
reply. This is not strange, considering the unset- 


LEAVES FROM A JOURNAL 


217 


tied condition of the times. We are all rejoicing 
over the great victory of Louis of Nassau at Heili- 
ger Lee. This wooded eminence was old historic 
ground. Centuries before, a German warrior 
crushed Roman tyranny on this very spot. Again 
a battle was fought, this time not only for father- 
land but for conscience. Surely God was with us, 
for Alva’s choice army was utterly routed. His 
veterans had not reckoned on the disadvantages 
they would have to meet. They soon floundered 
helplessly in the deceitful morasses, or fell into 
huge ditches with which the pastures were sur- 
rounded. The Prince’s army has won its first vic- 
tory in the Netherlands! ” 

‘L . . The Prince is engaged in strenuous efforts 
to raise more men and more money. The Land- 
grave of Hesse and the Elector of Saxony have 
promised substantial aid. The Prince has given all 
his ready money, sold his plate, jewels, and costly 
tapestries, and staked his all upon this hazardous 
enterprise. The people are giving as they did in 
Bible times — the rich sparingly and the poor liber- 
ally. The Prince has set a noble example, which I 
hope will be followed by the prosperous cities.” 

'L . . We have sustained a crushing defeat. 
How can I write you about the fearful massacre at 
Jemmingen? 

The Duke of Alva was surprised to find that 
the veteran army of Spain was not invincible. 


2i8 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


When he recovered from his temporary amaze- 
ment, his wrath was terrible. He decided to take 
the field in person and crush the rebellion. He 
did so, and Louis of Nassau lost at Jemmingen all 
that he had gained at Heiliger Lee. The poorly- 
paid and underfed patriot troops mutinied and 
would not fight. Being hotly pushed, they fled. 
Seven thousand were either butchered or drowned. 
Louis, with a few survivors, escaped to Germany. 
But the Prince is not discouraged, for his trust is in 
God, and he firmly believes our cause is just. Do 
not become disheartened, my beloved wife. The 
darkest hour is just before the dawn.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 


PLUMING FOR FLIGHT. 

To-morrow Katharine La Tour becomes a 
nun. You have succeeded admirably, cousin 
Agnes. I am more than gratified at the result of 
your labors.” 

“ I really am troubled, Julius,” replied the Lady 
Abbess, “ at your treatment of my young novice. 
What will be the effect of this tissue of lies on that 
sincerely honest and innocent girl, when she dis- 
covers the truth? She believes us to be but little 
removed from angels, and she does not for a mo- 
ment imagine that we really deny ourselves but 
few of the world's pleasures.” 

I care not what she thinks, after her vows are 
once spoken,” replied the Superior. “ She will then 
be bound to us by irrevocable ties, and she will 
have to accept the condition of things as she finds 
them. But my influence over her is so unbounded 
that . I am confident she will consider that whatever 
I advise is right. I never was so interested in a 
woman before. But how can one behold Katharine 

La Tour, with her candor, her intelligence, her 

219 


220 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


spirituality, her charms of person and manner, with- 
out admiring such a lovely creature! ” 

You are waxing eloquent, Julius,” said the 
lady, with curling lips. And yet, cousin, do you 
not see that you are seeking to destroy in this ad- 
mirable young person those very qualities of heart 
and mind which are her chief attraction? It almost 
rouses a conscience within me, to see the looks of 
love and reverence with which she regards both 
you and me.” 

Let us make an end of this fruitless discus- 
sion,” said Father Ryder, rising and trying vainly 
to suppress a yawn. ‘‘ It is nearly my dinner hour, 
and I feel the need of refreshment. I will see my 
novice at four o’clock this afternoon, to prepare 
her for the ceremonies of the morrow.” 

Monseigneur was feeling elated at the success of 
his schemes, and in consequence he allowed himself 
considerably more wine with his dinner than he 
was in the habit of taking. He became unusually 
genial and communicative. It was in this con- 
dition that he sought an interview with the pros- 
pective bride of Christ. 

As the young novice entered the room at the 
summons of her confessor. Father Ryder was again 
impressed with the loveliness of her person, the 
charm of her exquisite grace. There was a con- 
scious purity in her presence, which effectually 
shielded her even more than her novice’s garb. She 


PLUMING FOR FLIGHT 


221 


was now dressed in the long flowing black robe of 
the Order, and wore a white veil, which to-morrow 
would be replaced by one of sombre black, typify- 
ing her death to the world. 

The generous wine was coursing through the 
Superior’s veins, and for the moment he was not 
guarded in his speech. 

“ Sweet Katharine,” he said, “ how lovely you 
look to-day! By your serene expression I judge 
that life in the convent is thoroughly congenial to 
you.” 

The novice stared in amazement at this unusual 
language from her stately and dignified confessor. 
The Superior realized instinctively that he had 
made a serious blunder. Collecting his scattered 
wits, he began again: 

‘‘ My daughter, how do you feel in reference to 
the momentous step which you are about to take 
to-morrow? ” 

“ Holy Father,” faltered the girl, I have doubts 
and fears, and I think I am unfit for the conventual 
life. I have longings after the world and its pleas- 
ures. I do not know how to stifle these sinful de- 
sires.” 

You do not need to silence them, my little 
friend. They are not sinful, as you imagine, and 
the Church will not frown them down. The 
Church is not so ascetic as you have been taught. 
Far from it! She imposes secrecy upon her fol- 


222 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


lowers, that their indulgences may not be known 
to the outside world, to mar their influence; but 
she grants her faithful children all the pleasures 
that life can offer/^ 

Katharine was amazed at these doctrines, which 
were so unlike the catechism she had studied within 
these walls. Recovering herself with an effort, she 
said, If your words are true. Father, why do I 
need to leave the world and become a nun? I 
thought that the worship and service of God were 
the chief objects in life, to those vho entered holy 
houses.” 

“ My little friend, do not misunderstand me. We 
do worship God. Our masses, our festivals, our 
fasts are all evidences of our solemn adoration of 
God. But as a reward for separating ourselves 
from the world, and cutting ourselves off from the 
amenities of life, the Church grants us indulgences.” 

“ It seems to me,” said Katharine, with gather- 
ing courage, “ that it is an insult to the Almighty 
to offer Him merely lip-service and a divided heart. 
Did not Christ denounce those who kept the out- 
side of the platter clean, while the inside was filthy? 
It cannot be that you are talking seriously. Father.” 

“ I never was more serious in my life, my fair 
reasoner,” replied the Superior, completely off his 
guard. You have treasured in your mind the 
words of Christ. It is well! Let me quote others 
to you, not only from the lips of the Master, but 


PLUMING FOR FLIGHT 


223 


from those of His holy apostles: 'To the pure all 
things are pure.’ ' Love one another.’ ' A bishop 
shall be the husband of one wife.’ You look as- 
tonished, my sweet .Katharine, at such astounding 
words; but I tell you this Church of ours sanctions 
marriage amongst the priesthood, secretly, to be 
sure, but it makes such a state possible by special 
dispensations, and that wilhout violating con- 
science. You must have known, Katharine, that I 
loved you. Perhaps I have obeyed the Master's 
command too literally, in your case, but the fact 
remains unaltered — I love you. The other fact re- 
mains unaltered, that Christ sanctioned the mar- 
riage of priests. When He selected His apostles. 
He made choice of men who had wives. Is not 
Peter’s wife made a personage of special note by 
an allusion to her in the Sacred Word? And Peter 
is the rock upon which our Church is built, and to 
whom she looked in those days as to her spiritual 
head. Marriage was not forbidden priests until the 
thirteenth century, and this command is an arbi- 
trary one, which can easily be evaded. When I 
receive that cardinal’s hat which the Pope has 
promised me, I can also procure a special dispensa- 
tion which will permit our union.” 

" Stop! ” cried Katharine, in a voice of indigna- 
tion, her cheeks crimson with wrath and shame. 
" Say not another word at your peril. Is this your 
professed holy life, this life which you admit is a 


224 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


tissue of lies from beginning to end? If I had en- 
tertained thoughts of marriage, think you I would 
have entered a convent, or have wounded the heart 
of my noble friend and lover by rejecting his suit? 
Merciful God, save me from these pitfalls!’’ 

This cry of anguish sobered the Superior. Re- 
alizing that he had gone too far, he sought to oblit- 
erate the unfortunate impression he had made. 

My daughter,” he said, in his accustomed dig- 
nified manner, “ the test is over, and you have not 
faltered in your loyalty. Did you believe I could 
be in earnest? I sought but to prove your sincerity 
of purpose. You have passed the ordeal triumph- 
antly. Now kneel! ” he said authoritatively, and 
make your last confession before assuming the 
veib” 

Katharine was powerless to resist the stern, im- 
perious personality of the priest. She fully realized 
her dangerous position. She knew that if she 
would escape from this place the utmost discretion 
v;as necessary, in order that her confessor might 
not suspect her purpose. She therefore obeyed sub- 
missively the command of Monseigneur Ryder. 

In conclusion, the Superior said, “ I shall exact 
a penance, my daughter, for entertaining such re- 
bellious feelings as you have described and for 
doubting the word of your confessor. You will re- 
main before the altar in the chapel until midnight, 
reciting the prayers which I will mark in the bre- 


PLUMING FOR FLIGHT 


225 


viary. I trust that by that time your mind will have 
become tranquillized, and that thoughts of the cere- 
monies of the morrow will bring you only joy and 
peace. Farewell.” 

Fully confident in his power over the novice, and 
never doubting but what she was thoroughly 
grounded in her desire to take the veil, the Superior 
departed. Flad his sensibilities not been dulled, he 
would quickly have noted that the calmness of his 
charge was forced. 

Until eight o’clock in the evening Katharine re- 
volved in her mind the chances of escape. She was 
fully resolved to leave these hateful walls that very 
night, and to seek shelter elsewhere. Never would 
she willingly submit to the life which Father Ryder 
had so graphically described. She fell upon her 
knees and besought God to avert the impending 
danger and to aid her escape. 

She repaired to the chapel at the time appointed. 
It was the hour for quiet meditation in the convent, 
and the halls were deserted. As Katharine knelt 
before the altar, she felt a soft touch on her shoul- 
der. Looking up she saw the impassive face of 
the portress. Over her arm she carried a peasant’s 
coarse cape and rough hood. 

'' Rise, child,” she said kindly. “ I listened to 
your prayers for deliverance this afternoon. I saw 
your tears of distress, and I pitied you. I would 
save you from the fate which has been mine. The 


226 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Church has sadly changed since the days of my 
youth. I have always loved and reverenced her, 
and I do so still. It is only those things within her 
which are not holy that I would see changed. May 
God in His own good time purge her from all her 
spots and stains, and bring her forth as gold puri- 
fied by the refiner’s fire. But enough of this. The 
convent is no place for you. If you remain, you 
will be sadly persecuted. I have come to set you 
free. Hasten! there is no time to lose! ” 

So saying, she wrapped the bewildered girl in the 
coarse garments and led her to the postern gate of 
the convent. As she opened the gate she said, 
“ Go along the Westernstrasse until you come to 
Canal Street. In the third house from the corner 
on the right lives my sister, Betgen Faber. She 
will shelter you to-night for my sake. Farther than 
this, the blessed Mother must direct your steps.” 

With these words she gently thrust the trem- 
bling girl into the dark street of the city. 


CHAPTER XXXL 


'' NOT AS TO A FLEMING, BUT AS TO A TRAITOR.” 

After the death of his nephew, Baron Berlay- 
mont redoubled his persecution of the Protestants. 
He saw to it that the gibbet and the stake were 
daily supplied with victims. One morning he en- 
tered the strongly-guarded palace where Alva re- 
sided, and passing unchallenged through the rooms 
where soldiers were stationed to guard the person 
of the Duke, he was ushered into the presence of 
the governor of the Netherlands. The Duke was 
in high spirits, having just been made the recipient 
of a jewelled hat and sword from the Pope, in rec- 
ognition of his services for the Church. An auto- 
graph letter accompanied the gift, in which his 
Holiness urged Alva to remember that when he 
put the hat on his head, “ he was guarded with it 
as with a helmet of righteousness and with the 
shield of God’s help, indicating the heavenly crown 
which was ready for all princes who support the 
holy Church and the Roman Catholic faith.” The 
sword was ornamented with the following Latin 

227 


228 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


inscription: '' Accipe sanctum gladium, niunus a 
Deo, in quo dejicies adversarios populi mei Israel.’’ 
— “ Receive the sacred sword, a gift from God, in 
whom you will overthrow the adversaries of my 
people Israel.” 

Alva greeted the Baron almost cordially. “ Your 
investigations have proved a mine of wealth,” he 
said. “ I am glad I accorded you those privileges.” 

The Baron could not conceal his pleasure at this 
praise. '' I still have information, which is at your 
disposal,” he said. 

‘‘ Then let us proceed to business,” replied Alva. 

The Baron produced a chart, and laying it before 
Philip’s viceroy said, “ Louis of Nassau is contem- 
plating another invasion of the Netherlands, much 
against his brother William’s judgment. He in- 
tends to make Utrecht his objective point. There 
are many conspirators there. He will proceed to 
AmersfoorL and in case he is repulsed there he can 
fall back on Het Loo. He evidently expects to be 
supported by the ‘ Beggars of the Sea,’ for he keeps 
in close proximity to the ocean.” 

Alva glanced at the plans critically. With his 
superior knowledge of military tactics, he saw the 
weak points in the scheme at once. Poor fools! ” 
he said at length. They seem anxious to thrust 
their heads into the lion’s mouth. It is well for us 
that these rebels are not sagacious enough to follow 
their Prince’s advice. I do not wonder Orange 


AS TO A TRAITOR 


229 


discouraged the campaign. What an insane idea 
of falling back on Het Loo, that unfortified village! 
Our work will be easy. The rebels will soon get 
tired of being annihilated. Now, as to some com- 
pensation for your services, Baron. I will repre- 
sent your case to his Majesty, and recommend a 
suitable reward.” 

“ There is only one reward that I will for a mo- 
ment consider!” said Baron Berlaymont. 

The Duke eyed his visitor keenly. 

“And that?” 

“ The office of Stadtholder of Brabant. I under- 
stand the place is vacant.” 

The Duke crimsoned with anger. “ Your re- 
quest is certainly not lacking in boldness. The 
office you covet is next in rank to the regency.” 

“ I am aware of that fact,” replied the Baron 
coolly. “ You are the Regent of the Netherlands. 
No man after yourself has done more toward sup- 
pressing heresy than I have. I consider no one 
n.ore worthy of the position of Stadtholder.” 

“ What if I do not choose to recommend you to 
this place?” said Alva. 

“ Then I shall cease my investigations in the in- 
terests of the government, and I shall warn the 
rebels of your moves. You know well enough that 
I should prove a dangerous enemy.” 

Alva did know this to his cost, and he chafed 
furiously. 


230 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


'' Very well, Baron! ” he replied grimly. “ You 
shall have your wish.” 

“ Thanks. With your permission I should like 
this contract in writing.” 

The Duke hesitated a moment, then seizing a 
pen he dashed off a few lines on a slip of paper, to 
which he affixed his seal. He handed it to the 
Baron. 

The latter looked at the writing, then folded the 
paper and placed it carefully in his pocket 

“ Many thanks, your Excellency.” 

“ I desire to be alone! ” said Alva. And without 
deigning his visitor so much as a nod in farewell, 
the Duke resumed his study of a chart. In a few 
moments he summoned Vargas. 

“ Did you notice my visitor? ” he began ab- 
ruptly. 

“Yes. It was Baron Berlaymont.” 

“What do you think that conceited Nether- 
lander wants for his services? ” 

Vargas looked interested. 

“ He wants nothing less than the position of 
Stadtholder of Brabant — a position which was even 
denied William of Orange! ” 

Vargas held up his hands in horror. 

“ Juan Vargas?” 

“ Yes, your Excellency!” 

“ That man has outlived his usefulness. He has 
dared to threaten me. He is dangerous. What 


AS TO A TRAITOR 


231 


shall we do with him? How shall we manage to 
put him out of the way, and still not have Alva ap- 
pear to have been a party to his death? ” 

The Spaniard thought for a few moments. 

“ You say he has incriminating papers on him? ” 

“ Yes, he has the plan of the proposed campaign 
of Louis of Nassau in his pocket.” 

“ Then he shall die, and that at the hands of the 
rebels,” replied Vargas. 

“ Do you think you can manage the affair dis- 
creetly? ” 

“ Certainly. Your Excellency may safely entrust 
all details to me,” said Vargas. 

“ Very well! Then I will dismiss the matter from 
my mind.” 

The next morning the citizens of the capital 
were electrified by the news that the “ Tiger of 
Brussels ” had been foully murdered. His body 
was found riddled with bullets, and on a paper 
which was pinned over his breast were these words: 

Not as to a Fleming, but as to a traitor and a 
spy!” 

The hours which elapsed before Conrad Cheno- 
weth could visit Doha Isidore de Cisneros dragged 
their slow length along. He vainly wished that the 
moments would speed faster, but Nature was too 
wise a mother to alter her times and seasons at the 
entreaties of anxious lovers. Well she knew that 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


232 

the world was full of such, and had been, since the 
day when Jacob tended the flocks of Laban and 
sighed for Rachael. 

At last the appointed hour came, and Conrad and 
his friend set out for the home of the Spanish Dona. 
She met them with smiles and with the welcome 
assurance that Hilvardine was safe in her posses- 
sion. She prepared them for the changed appear- 
ance of the girl, as she had been ill of prison fever. 

Reynold Van Straalen was first summoned to 
her presence. He was merciful to his friend, and 
did not prolong his interview. In less than a half 
hour he returned, with the welcome announcement 
that Hilvardine was feeling stronger and would 
see Conrad at once. A moment more and he was 
in her presence. Hilvardine’s face, wasted and 
worn by sorrow and sickness, still retained its love- 
liness. Her hair had been cut, and clung in short 
raven curls close to her face, giving it a look of ex- 
treme youthfulness. Her face was chastened in its 
expression, but her eyes shone with a happy light 
as she caught sight of Conrad. 

He held out his arms, and straight as a homing 
dove she went to meet him. No words were 
needed. Time for them had no existence. Pain, 
fatigue, anxiety — all were forgotten in the felicity 
of this hour. 

“ God has been very good to me,’’ whispered Hil- 
vardine. 


AS TO A TRAITOR 


233 


“ He has been better to me than my fears,” re- 
plied Conrad. May He forgive me that for a time 
I doubted His love.” 

A tap sounded on the door, and the face of Doha 
Isidore appeared. 

“ I shall have to interrupt you. Seigneur Chen- 
oweth,” she said. “ You have been here more than 
an hour, and my charge will not be in good condi- 
tion to travel to-morrow unless she sleeps soundly 
to-night. Bid her adieu for a short time.” 

Conrad immediately took leave of his lady, with 
loving assurances of a speedy reunion in Leyden. 
He felt confident that his mother would welcome 
his promised wife with great joy. 

Conrad took Doha Isidore's hand before leaving 
the house, and pressed a kiss upon it. “ I cannot 
now express my gratitude to you in fitting words,” 
he said, in a broken voice. 

Believe me, it has been a pleasure to assist one 
so good and so beautiful as Mistress Van Straalen. 
I am glad that I have been permitted in this small 
way to atone for some of the cruelty of my fellow 
countrymen.” And the dark eyes of the charming 
Spanish Doha were full of tears as she spoke. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE FUGITIVES. 

Peter Claesen, Gretchen’s son, made it a prac- 
tice to steal unobserved from his home after night- 
fall to visit friends of the faith and to render them 
what assistance he could. On the night in which 
Katharine La Tour made her escape from the con- 
vent, Peter was abroad, as usual. Coming into the 
Westernstrasse he noticed a young woman a little 
in advance of him, who walked timidly and with an 
air of uncertainty as to her direction. Believing 
this to be some person in distress, Peter followed at 
a respectful distance. Hearing sounds of pursuit, 
the young woman quickened her pace. Peter fol- 
lowed, and kept the flying feet and fluttering dress 
well in sight. Hardly had the fugitive reached 
Canal Street when, overcome by fright and exhaus- 
tion, she sank on the pavement in a faint. Peter 
was by her side in a moment. Fortunately for both 
parties the street was deserted. Lifting the un- 
conscious woman in his strong arms, Peter took a 
shorter route to his mother’s house, where he ar- 
rived in safety. 


234 


THE FUGITIVES 


235 


Gretchen, who never turned a needy human be- 
ing from her doors, hastened to unfasten the heavy 
cape from the slender shoulders. The coarse hood 
fell from the face and revealed the nun’s attire. 

A Sister!” said Gretchen, in amazement. 
“ Why is she abroad at such an hour? ” 

Colonel Van Straalen gave one look at the beau- 
tiful face. 

“ It is Katharine La Tour! ” he said to Conrad. 
“ What are we to understand by this? She must 
have fled from the convent.” 

“ She is not yet a nun! ” said Conrad, pointing 
to the white veil. “ I imagine she has run away 
to escape taking her vows.” 

“ God grant it may be so,” replied his friend. 

The young novice was laid upon a bed, and, un- 
der Gretchen’s skilful ministrations, she was able 
in a short time to sit up and relate her story to that 
good woman. 

Hearing the sound of voices in the adjoining 
room, Katharine inquired if there were visitors in 
the house, and if her presence was known? 

Gretchen gave an amused laugh. ‘‘ My child,” 
she said, ‘‘set your fears at rest. The gentlemen 
whose voices you hear do me the honor of lodging 
in my humble tenement. I am told that they are 
friends of yours and their names are Colonel Van 
Straalen and Heer Conrad Chenoweth.” 


236 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


The young officer now knocked at the door, and 
begged permission to see Mademoiselle La Tour 
a few moments, if she were able to grant him a brief 
interview. 

“ Allow my friend to come in, please,” said 
Katharine, a soft flush creeping into her pale 
cheeks. 

“ Mademoiselle La Tour — Katharine,” said the 
young officer, advancing and holding out his hand. 
If ever honest, faithful love was reflected in a man’s 
eyes, it shone in his at this moment. Katharine 
was conscious of no feeling either of surprise or 
embarrassment at the sight of her friend. An un- 
utterable sense of peace and security came over her. 

“ Katharine,” continued Reynold Van Straalen, 

I have loved you always, love you now as a man 
loves but one woman in his life. Will you give me 
the right to protect you from your enemies? ” 

And Katharine La Tour listened well pleased to 
this oft-told tale, old as humanity, everlasting as 
the hills, changeless as the ocean. The look with 
which she laid her hand in his firm clasp was beau- 
tiful in its humility and trustful love. 

“ My noble friend, can you forgive me for hav- 
ing rejected in days past your protection and your 
love^ and for trying to. stifle my heart’s affections 
in yonder convent? ” 

Say no more, my love. There is naught to for- 


THE FUGITIVES 


237 


give. Henceforth you are mine, and I will protect 
you or die in the attempt.” 

“ But I ought not to remain longer here,” said 
Katharine. ‘‘ By midnight my flight will be dis- 
covered, and Monseigneur Ryder will leave no 
stone unturned to force me to return. I am strong 
now. Let us fly! ” 

‘‘We will return to our friends and talk the mat- 
ter over with them,” said Reynold. 

Every one present rejoiced at the young girl’s 
escape, and none more so than Conrad Chenoweth 
as he saw his friend’s happiness, which was but a 
reflection of his own. Immediate flight seemed to 
be the unanimous verdict of the little company. 
Gretchen’s son, who had been a silent spectator 
hitherto, now spoke: 

“ If I mistake not, I discovered to-day, about 
two miles out to sea, one of the ships of the ‘ Wild 
Beggars.’ It is commanded, I surmise, by William 
de la Marck. He will harbor any fugitives gladly, 
as he knows no fear. If the Colonel will trust him- 
self and the young lady to my guidance, I am sure 
I can help him out of his difficulty. But there is 
no time to be lost. The Admiral is quite likely to 
sail just before dawn, and to be many leagues from 
here by sunrise.” 

Reynold Van Straalen gladly availed himself of 
this generous offer. It was decided that he should 
accompany his betrothed to Leyden, where he 


238 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


could leave her under the protection of friends, and 
from there he could make his plans to join the 
Prince of Orange. He took leave of his humble 
friends with profound emotion. He bade Conrad 
a brief farewell, as he fully expected his early ar- 
rival in Leyden. 

After a hurried repast, the fugitives followed 
their guide through the deserted streets of the city, 
and successfully avoided the night-watchmen who 
were on duty. At last they reached one of the 
canals, and rousing a sleepy ferryman, with whom 
Peter was acquainted, they entered one of those 
brown slipper-like boats, which glide picturesquely 
about the Ouderhaven. A slight haziness, which 
was not exactly a mist, hung around the old houses 
and half veiled the bridges. The water lapped lazily 
about the tall gray posts. They drifted, rather than 
rowed, past timber rafts, huge canal boats, under 
bridges, past gloomy archways and the reflected 
shadows of tall houses, until they reached the har- 
bor. Here they were obliged to land, as the ferry- 
man refused to carry them farther. 

Peter took the matter in hand. Finding the 
owner of a rowboat, he tried to hire him to row the 
party to the suspicious looking craft, which for sev- 
eral days had been lurking in the neighborhood. 
The boatman was timid, and did not dare to evade 
the law. Peter finally persuaded the man to loan 
him the use of the boat for a couple of hours, and 


THE FUGITIVES 


239 


he boldly offered to row the party himself. The 
officer was loath to accept so generous an offer, but 
seeing no other avenue of escape, he suffered Peter 
to have his own way in the matter. 

The sea was rough and the wind strong, but 
Peter had stout arms and rowed with no apparent 
effort. In due time they came astern the schooner 
Goodspeed, and shipped oars. 

A call sounded from above. 

“ Who goes there? ” 

Friends of the Beggars! ” was the reply. 

All right!” 

A rope ladder was swung over the side of the 
schooner. After pressing some gold into Peter’s 
reluctant hand. Colonel Van Straalen assisted 
Katharine up the ladder, and then mounted himself. 

A ferocious looking man, with shaggy, unkempt 
hair and beard, greeted them roughly. 

Whom have we here? ” 

Reynold briefly related his own story and that of 
Katharine. 

De la Marck, for it was he, spoke in kinder tones. 

You are welcome. I will drop you in Leyden on 
the morrow.” 

Savage and brutal in manner as persecution had 
made this man, he was loyal and kind-hearted, and 
never stopped to weigh personal interests where 
his Protestant fellow countrymen were concerned. 
He had made a vow not to use a razor until the 


240 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


death of his kinsman, Egmont, was avenged. His 
deeds of outlawry had been condemned by the 
Prince of Orange; still, in defiance of strict orders, 
he continued to cruise upon the high seas, and to 
wreak his vengeance upon his hated foes. 

The sailors comprised men in the different ranks 
of life, but all were dressed alike in the gray suits 
of mendicant friars, with beggars’ wallets, a wooden 
bowl and spoon hung over the back, and a staff in 
each hand. In addition, however, to these peace- 
ful accoutrements, each sailor was provided with 
a sword on his thigh and pistols at his belt. Each 
man wore a singular necklace: a chain to which 
a gold Gueulx penny was attached. On one side 
of the penny was the likeness of Philip II, and over 
it was this inscription: ‘‘ Fideles au roi! ” [Faithful 
to the King.] On the reverse side of the coin was 
a fac-simile of a beggar’s wallet clasped in the 
hands, and above this were the words: “ Jusques 
a porter la besace ” [even to the carrying of a wal- 
let]. 

Comfortable quarters were provided Katharine 
in the Admiral’s cabin, and after a long rest, in 
which she slept the tranquil sleep of perfect confi- 
dence and security, she was awakened by the sound 
of her lover’s voice. 

“Arise, and come on deck, Katharine, as speedily 
as possible. The spires of Leyden are in sight.” 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 


UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 

Conrad Chenoweth lay in a dungeon in the 
prison at Brussels, condemned to suffer death on 
the morrow. 

Paul Buys, pensionary of Leyden, was in the 
secret service of the Prince, and employed agents 
in all parts of the Netherlands to help carry on the 
work begun by William of Orange. An extensive 
secret correspondence was conducted between all 
the large cities and towns of the kingdom. Con- 
rad Chenoweth, as a valued friend of the Prince, 
was entrusted with important letters for several 
rich cloth merchants in Brussels, and the object of 
these letters was to secure money or pledges for the 
raising of more troops for the Prince. 

The real names of the principal personages des- 
ignated in these letters never appeared; but other 
names were substituted, which soon became famil- 
iar terms, not only in the Netherlands, but also in 
France, Germany and England. The Prince of 
Orange was always known as Martin Willemzoon; 

241 


242 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


the Duke of Alva as Master Powels van Alblas; 
Queen Elizabeth as Henry Philipzoon; the King 
of Denmark as Peter Peterson. 

The twelve signs of the zodiac were used to in- 
dicate th^ twelve months of the year, and various 
other devices, suggested by ingenious minds, were 
used in this secret correspondence. 

While leaving the house of one of these cloth 
merchants, Conrad Chenoweth was suddenly seized 
from behind by two powerful ruffians, and his arms 
pinioned before he could defend himself. He was 
thrown into prison, and his trial delayed for some 
weeks until Alva returned from suppressing the re- 
bellion incited by Louis of Nassau. 

On the Duke’s return Conrad was brought be- 
fore the Blood Council. Scorning to lie about the 
papers found concealed about his person, or to be- 
tray his relations to the Prince, he was summarily 
sentenced to death upon the gallows. 

And now the last day of his earthly life was draw- 
ing to a close, and the twilight was falling. The 
vesper bells answered each other with silvery 
chimes, then ceased. The throbbing heart of the 
city grew still. The darkness and the silence, like 
something tangible, began to press upon heart and 
brain. The words which Conrad had often heard 
his mother repeat, and which formed the bed-rock 
of her faith, came to him in the gloom: “ God will 
do whatever is best; and His will is always right.” 


UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH 243 

“ The best? ” murmured Conrad. What is 
best? 

Without were life, freedom, love, happiness; and 
Conrad Chenoweth was young. Youth, health and 
rich capacity for enjoyment were his. Within was 
darkness and the shadow of death. Yet he knew 
that in life or in death the everlasting arms were 
always underneath. His soul sought the covert 
which has been the shelter of innumerable hearts 
from the windy storm and tempest,” and he cried 
out in his extremity, “ O God, we are Thy servants. 
Be it done unto us according to Thy word! ” 

Bright grew the gloom about him, brighter than 
the sunrise on the hills, which he would never tread 
again. 

An hour passed, and the sound of footsteps was 
heard approaching the cell. Conrad listened indif- 
ferently. The steps came nearer and nearer. The 
door of the dungeon was unlocked, and a priest en- 
tered, bearing a lighted candle in his hands. He 
threw aside his cowl, and the face of Father Steen 
was revealed. 

Conrad grasped his hand eagerly. I am glad, 
reverend Father, that you were allowed to come to 
me instead of a strange priest. You have ever been 
my friend.” 

The Jesuit looked at the glowing face, and a sigh 
escaped his lips. “ You have your mother’s eyes,” 
he said, half to himself. “ Her son must not die 


244 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


like a felon. Conrad Chenoweth, you saved my life 
once. I have come to save yours. There is no time 
to waste in words. Attire yourself in this suit as 
quickly as possible.” 

He handed the young man the long black robe 
and cowl of a priest. When Conrad had donned 
the suit the Jesuit said briefly, 

Now follow me! ” 

Where? ” 

For answer, the priest took the candle and 
walked to the farther side of the dungeon and ex- 
amined intently the solid wall of stone masonry. 
He passed his fingers slowly along the huge blocks 
of stone. Presently he found a slight depression in 
the rock, and using his strength he bore down upon 
this spot, but without any result. 

‘‘ Give me the benefit of your youthful muscle,” 
he said to the young man. “ As I press this spring, 
bear down with your shoulder upon this block of 
stone.” 

The spring had evidently grown rusty from dis- 
use, and it took several attempts with the united 
strength of both men before the massive block slid 
from its position and revealed a narrow passage be- 
yond. 

“ How came you to know of this means of exit? ” 
inquired Conrad. 

The priest smiled. Some ten years ago I was 
called to confess the head jailer of this prison, who 


UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH 245 


was dying. He revealed the secret of this passage 
to me, and said that after his death I was the only 
living person aware of the existence of this secret 
exit from the prison. He confessed that he had 
committed many foul and bloody wrongs in this 
underground alley. Follow me, my son, without 
fear. I know every inch of the way.’^ 

Taking the candle they walked for quite a dis- 
tance between narrow walls, and finally came upon 
an obstruction which seemed to Conrad to be in- 
capable of removal. It proved to be an ingeniously 
contrived trap-door, which the priest, who seemed 
familiar with its workings, easily opened, and they 
came out into an open field. 

“ My plan for your escape is this,” said Father 
Steen. “ I will see that you pass the city gates in 
safety. A half mile beyond, in the clump of firs on 
the right, you will find a swift horse. Ride for your 
life till sunrise, but remain in concealment during 
the day. You will find provisions in the saddle- 
bag, as well as a brace of pistols. A man will be 
guarding the horse, but when you give him the 
password, ‘ Loyola,’ he will allow you to take the 
horse without any further conversation. The fel- 
low is close-mouthed, and you do not need to fear 
that he will take you to be other than you appear 
— a Jesuit in good and regular standing.” 

“My kind, generous friend!” said Conrad, 
grasping the priest’s hand. “ Will not your noble 


246 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


act involve you in difficulties? I cannot accept 
your aid if it costs you your life.” 

Be not needlessly alarmed, my son. I have not 
been a Jesuit all these years in vain. My tracks 
are thoroughly covered. The jailer does not know 
me, as I was careful to conceal my face when I en- 
tered the prison to-night. Before sunrise I shall 
be en route for Rome, whither my Superior has 
sent me on a special commission. No one in the 
House knew that I left that place this evening. 
Monseigneur Ryder is a keen man, and he may 
have his suspicions when he learns the fact of your 
escape, but he will protect the interests of his Or- 
der.” 

“ You are a noble man! ” said Conrad. “ Would 
that you were one of the pioneers of the Reforma- 
tion, instead of a Jesuit.” 

Conrad had gone too far. The priest’s face 
hardened. 

'' There cropped out the fanaticism of John 
Chenoweth ! ” he said sternly. “ But enough of 
this! What I am, I am. The years will leave me 
as they found me. I am striving after holiness, and 
if at the last I fail of attaining it, it will not be from 
lack of endeavor.” 

‘‘Forgive my hasty words!” said Conrad. “I 
trust you are a sincere follower of Christ, although 
you are a Jesuit.” 


UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH 247 


They had -now reached the city gates, and Father 
Steen roused the sleepy guard with these words: 

“ Open in the name of the Church. My brother 
in Christ is obliged to depart at once on important 
business.” 

The guard opened the gates as he was bidden, 
and Conrad Chenoweth stepped forth a free man. 

Before he could cast about in his mind for suit- 
able words with which to acknowledge a gift so un- 
speakable, the Jesuit said, “ Make haste, brother, 
and may God speed you on your way.” Father 
Steen then turned on his heel and walked rapidly 
in the opposite direction. 

A week later, in a pleasant house in the suburbs 
of Leyden, a double wedding was consummated. 
Francis Junius read the solemn words of the 
marriage service which united the lives of Reynold 
Van Straalen and Katharine La Tour, and Conrad 
Chenoweth and the Burgomaster’s daughter Hil- 
vardine. 

Dr. Chenoweth was in Leyden with his wife, re- 
covering slowly from the effects of an ugly wound 
in his side. There were no witnesses to the mar- 
riage outside of the family. It was a joyful, yet 
solemn occasion, for on the morrow the two young 
men were to join the army of the Prince on the 
French frontier. 

The Huguenot preacher surveyed the little group 


248 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


before him with solemn prescience. Lifting his 
hands in benediction, he said, “ Fear not, little 
flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give 
you the kingdom; and God remembers His cov- 
enant forever; the word He has spoken to a thou- 
sand generations." 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


THE MIDNIGHT ASSASSIN. 

It was the spring of 1574. William of Orange 
sat in a room in his spacious mansion at Delft, read- 
ing despatches. One in particular seemed to touch 
him. It was an announcement from a Protestant 
clergyman, stating that as soon as he could make 
his way through the enemy’s lines he would present 
in person the contribution which his needy flock 
had gathered together for the Prince. 

The unequal contest between the people of the 
Netherlands and the Spanish government con- 
tinued unabated. The Duke of Alva in his greed 
had at last overreached the mark. He levied a tax 
of the tenth penny upon every article of merchan- 
dise or personal property, to be paid as often as it 
should be sold, said tax to be perpetual. No one 
was exempt. This was a blow which struck home 
to every fireside. If enforced, commerce would be 
paralyzed. Religious persecution had failed to 
unite these provinces. Alva’s oppression accom- 
plished this union, and the different States were 

249 


250 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


unanimous in their opposition and purpose to re- 
volt. 

About this time Admirals Treslong and De la 
March took possession of the towns of Brill and 
Flushing. A small but important seaport was also 
taken, and half the island of Walcheren renounced 
the yoke of Spain. Enkhuizen, the key to the Zuy- 
der Zee, followed suit, and with a great burst of 
enthusiasm rose and threw off the tyrant’s yoke. 
Amsterdam was the only town in Holland remain- 
ing loyal to Spain; and in Zealand only Middle- 
burg and Tergoes were submissive to Spanish rule. 
Louis of Nassau secured Mons, and one by one the 
important cities and towns throughout the Neth- 
erlands accepted garrisons of the Prince’s army. 

But the success of the patriots was capricious. 
Terrible reverses followed. The gallant Louis was 
defeated and killed at Mookerhyde and his army 
scattered. The army of the Prince, harassed by 
Alva’s tactics, poorly paid and starving, mutinied 
at last. The massacre of St. Bartholomew put to 
flight all hopes of a Huguenot reinforcement which 
had been promised Orange. The terrified cities 
and towns of Belgium once more placed their necks 
under the heel of the conquering Alva. Tyranny 
was again triumphant. 

But the Silent Prince remained calm and hopeful 
in the midst of crushing defeat. He was submissive 
to the will of God. “ Nevertheless,” he says, since 


THE MIDNIGHT ASSASSIN 


251 


it has pleased God to disappoint ns, it is necessary 
to have patience and not to lose courage, conform- 
ing ourselves to His divine will, yet proceeding 
onward in our work with his almighty aid.” Wil- 
liam’s faith was sublime. He did not waver an in- 
stant, even when the storm was wildest and the 
night darkest. The God of armies is with us,” he 
wrote, ‘‘ and he will fight in the midst of his forces.” 

With a small army of chosen followers. Orange 
went to Holland, the only province now which re- 
garded him as protector and sovereign. When he 
reached Holland he both expected and prepared 
to die. Here will I make my sepulchre,” he said, 
in the touching words of Scripture. If he could not 
effect the liberation of Holland he was ready to 
share her fate. 

And Holland received with tears of gratitude and 
words of affection the unsuccessful and proscribed 
Prince of Orange. With heart and soul the peo- 
ple obeyed William’s commands implicitly, and be- 
gan to raise money and levy troops for the final 
desperate struggle for liberty. 

Alva, finding to his cost that these men of but- 
ter ” could offer prolonged resistance, wearied at 
length of the contest, and resigned the governor- 
ship of the Netherlands. Requesens was appointed 
to fill his place. 

Part of the Prince’s forces were at Delft and part 
at Rotterdam. 


252 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Such was the condition of affairs when the inci- 
dent about to be related took place. 

The room in which the Prince of Orange sat was 
scantily furnished. The silver plate which he pos- 
sessed in such abundance had long ago been sold 
to pay his soldiers. Very little now remained to 
remind one of the magnificent style in which the 
Prince once lived. He had literally sacrificed all 
for his country. 

“ Please make several copies of this letter/’ he 
said to his secretary, Conrad Chenoweth, “ they 
must be sent by morning. I think I will retire early 
to-night, as I am tired.” 

A stout Dutchman was stationed outside the 
door of the Prince’s bedchamber, for there had al- 
ready been several attempts upon the life of Or- 
ange. 

After a short time the Prince reappeared in the 
doorway. ‘‘ Chenoweth,” he said, I am unac- 
countably nervous to-night. Would you mind 
bringing your writing in here? I shall quickly fall 
asleep if my faithful friend is near.” 

Accordingly, Conrad complied with the Prince’s 
request, and placing a dark screen before the light 
he began to write. The deep breathing of the 
Prince soon showed that he was asleep. After a 
time Conrad heard a strange sound. As the hour 
was now late, he paused a few moments to rest. As 
it was no unusual thing for couriers to arrive in the 


THE MIDNIGHT ASSASSIN 


253 


night on urgent business, the young man gave no 
further heed to the noise. Again it sounded, and 
nearer this time, and he imagined he could distin- 
guish a stealthy footfall close to his ear. He low- 
ered the lamp-wick and looked about the chamber. 

It contained one costly painting, which extended 
from floor to ceiling, representing the coronation 
of the fair Jacqueline, that ill-starred heroine of so 
many Netherland ballads and dramas. In one part 
of the picture was an assassin, dagger in hand, sent 
by the Duke of Burgundy to murder his cousin. 
The gleam of the dying embers in the grate shot 
forth a lurid, fitful glare, and the light falling on 
the dagger and on the life-sized figures in the pic- 
ture made them seem real. To the highly wrought 
imagination of the young man the scene was once 
more enacted. 

Again he heard that curious, muffled sound, ac- 
companied by a clicking noise. Was he dreaming 
or not? The picture seemed to move inward like 
a door! Conrad placed his hand on his trusty 
sword and watched. Soon he saw the dark face of 
a man peering cautiously into the room. Reassured 
by the heavy breathing of the Prince, the man ad- 
vanced. He was a powerfully built Spaniard, and 
in his hand was a gleaming dirk. 

Conrad saw at a glance that in open contest the 
ruffian was more than a match for him. There was 
little time to consider what was the best mode of 


254 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


procedure. He waited until the assassin was well 
inside the room, and was creeping stealthily toward 
the bed, when he suddenly sprang upon him with 
his sword, at the same time calling loudly upon the 
night watchman. The Spaniard uttered an oath, 
and struck at Conrad with his dagger. The young 
man sank to the floor unconscious. The sentinel 
was in the room, however, together with several 
others, who had heard the noise of the scuffle, and 
the villain was soon bound. 

William, aroused by the noise, sprang to Con- 
rad’s side. 

“ Has my faithful friend sacrificed his life to save 
mine? ” he said. 

Placing his hand over the young man’s heart, he 
felt a faint pulsation. He ordered him to be laid 
on the bed, and a surgeon was soon in attendance. 
He declared that the wound was not necessarily 
fatal, but had the dagger entered the side a fraction 
of an inch lower down it would have found the 
heart. 

William now looked at his would-be assassin. 
“ Why do you hate me so? ” he said, with more 
of sorrow in his tones than anger. “ I have never 
done you any harm! ” 

“ I neither hate nor love you! ” replied the Span- 
iard. '' I was in a sore strait for money, and 
Monseigneur Ryder offered me four hundred 
ducats if I would do this job. Part of this sum he 


THE MIDNIGHT ASSASSIN 


255 


paid me in advance, and I was to have received the 
remainder to-morrow when I returned to Brussels.” 

Take the prisoner and lock him up securely for 
the night,” said the Prince, but see that he is 
treated kindly. To-morrow we will decide what is 
best to do with him.” 

The guard obeyed reluctantly. They desired to 
execute the fellow on the spot, before he did any 
more mischief, but William’s commands were final. 

The next morning found Conrad Chenoweth 
much improved. The Prince sent for the soldier 
who had charge of the prisoner, and said, ‘‘ Let him 
go his way. He has not committed murder, and I 
do not wish to deprive a man of life when he is but 
the irresponsible tool of others.” 

The soldier began to argue in favor of a speedy 
execution, but William answered him kindly but 
decidedly, '' If I can forgive this man certainly you 
ought to be able to do so. Obey my command! ” 

Greatly to the surprise of the Spaniard, he was 
simply escorted to the boundaries of the town and 
told that it meant instant death for him to so much 
as show his head in the place again. 

This occurrence was soon banished from the 
minds of all by the return of Reynold Van Straa- 
len, who brought the sad news that the Spanish 
troops had laid siege to Leyden. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


SHUT IN. 

Leyden was one of the most beautiful cities in 
the Netherlands. It was situated on a tributary of 
the river Rhine, and was interlaced with canals, 
upon whose sides were rows of stately poplar and 
lime trees. The houses were elegant, the public 
buildings imposing and substantial, the streets 
wide, and public gardens and squares numerous. 
The pastures reclaimed from the ocean were filled 
with sleek cattle, and the kitchen gardens and the 
orchards bore witness to the thrift and prosperity 
of the people. 

“Leyden is besieged!’’ was the startling an- 
nouncement which Dr. Chenoweth brought to his 
little household one morning. “ The Spaniards 
have surrounded us with a cordon of forts and re- 
doubts! ” 

The faces of the women blanched. The Spanish 
army lay between them and their dear ones. The 
Prince of Orange would therefore be powerless to 
aid them. 

256 


SHUT IN 


257 

Is all lost? said Madam Chenoweth, in falter- 
ing tones. 

‘‘No!’’ said her husband. “All is not lost so 
long as there is an almighty arm above to defend 
us and Prince William lives. I shall never despair 
while that noble man is alive. He has sent a mes- 
sage to the citizens of Leyden, saying that if they 
can hold out three months he will rescue them.” 

The people were strong and courageous, and 
stimulated by the heroic conduct of their military 
commandant, John Van der Does, they fully re- 
solved to resist all overtures on the part of the 
enemy and to trust to the word of the Prince. 

A liberally-baited trap in the form of a gracious 
amnesty was presented the city by the Grand Com- 
mander Requesens. The sole condition of mercy 
was to return to the mother Church. 

“ As long as there is a man left in Leyden we will 
contend for our liberty and our religion,” was the 
reply of the people. 

The only two persons in Leyden who availed 
themselves of the offer of pardon were a brewer 
and the son of a refugee pedler. 

The garrison within the city consisted of a small 
corps of volunteers and five companies of burghers. 
Fierce combats and sorties occurred daily, and 
many shells were thrown into the city, causing ter- 
rible havoc. The culverines from the bastions of 
the forts belched forth their message of defiance 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


258 

and death. But there was no time for tears. All 
able-bodied persons were needed to render assist- 
ance. 

Madam Cheiioweth accompanied her husband to 
the hospital and even to the ramparts, where she 
moved about quietly, heedless of the rain of bullets 
as though they had been snowflakes, while she ten- 
derly assisted her husband in the care of the 
wounded. 

The brave women of Leyden rendered valuable 
service. Strong Frisian arms trundled wheelbar- 
rows filled with stones to repair the breaches in the 
wall, or melted pitch for the burning hoops, which 
they hurled into the midst of their assailants, or 
loaded muskets and helped to remove the wounded 
to a place of safety. 

The city was full of lamentation. There were few 
households that escaped the horrors of the siege. 
There was no /' beacon height of lonely suffering ” 
here. One touch of nature had made all Leyden 
akin. 

Hilvardine Chenoweth took charge of the orphan 
children who had flocked into the city from Haar- 
lem just before the siege. Katharine assisted in 
the hospital, where her sweet face and gentle words 
administered comfort to the sufferers. She had 
developed a courage foreign to her nature. As 
with the wife of one of the Frisian martyrs, " fear 
seemed to have fallen from her like a garment.” 


SHUT IN 


259 


There were few who spoke such words of power 
to the dying. Under the light of a pure gospel her 
whole nature seemed at rest. 

But while the bloody hand of war held the city 
in its grasp, another grim foe threatened Leyden, 
namely, famine. The city had been but scantily 
stocked with provisions at the outset, and the citi- 
zens had immediately been put upon short rations. 
Two of the three months allotted them by the 
Prince had now expired. Bread was a thing of 
the past, and malt cakes were used as a substitute. 
Horse-flesh was the only meat available, and of 
these provisions only a scanty allowance was ap- 
portioned each one. 

From his bed of sickness in Rotterdam, where 
the Prince of Orange languished with a fever, the 
devoted patriot dictated encouraging messages, 
which were delivered to the citizens of Leyden 
either by carrier pigeons or by swift couriers, called 
jumpers.’^ 

‘‘ We are straining every nerve to help you,” he 
wrote. All Holland is exerting herself to save 
you. An army can accomplish nothing in your ex- 
tremity. Our hope is from the sea.” 

The Prince held the cities of Delft and Rotter- 
dam, and between these the fortress of Polderwaert. 
This gave him control of the dykes in this vicinity. 
William felt confident that the only salvation for 
Leyden lay in piercing the dykes and flooding the 


26 o 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


country about the besieged city. Leyden was not 
on the ocean, but the ocean could be brought to 
Leyden. He therefore pierced the dykes in six- 
teen places, and likewise ordered the sluices at Rot- 
terdam, Schiedam and Delfthaven opened. 

“ Better a drowned land than a conquered land! 
cried the sturdy patriots, as they saw their fruitful 
orchards and growing crops overwhelmed by the 
flood. A fleet of vessels was prepared and stocked 
with provisions, which should be brought to the 
succor of Leyden as soon as the waters were high 
enough to float the ships. 

Starvation now stared the people of Leyden in 
the face. Malt cake and horse-flesh were both con- 
sumed. Only a few dried biscuit remained, and 
such remnants of vegetation as would have been 
repugnant to the human palate in days of plenty. 

Another tempting offer of peace was held out by 
the Spaniards. But the poor sufferers, with 
pinched faces and skeleton frames, cried out, We 
will not surrender! ” They remembered Naarden 
and Haarlem, and they refused to believe the fair 
speech of the enemy. 

Another pitiful despatch was sent the Prince: 
“We have kept our promise. We have held out 
two months with food and one month without 
food. In a few days we shall all be dead.’’ 

The cheering announcement came back that the 
waters were rapidly rising, and about Leyden they 


SHUT IN 


261 


had reached the depth of ten inches, and were se- 
riously inconveniencing the enemy. As if to mock 
the misery of the people, the plague broke out in 
the city and swept away thousands. 

Dr. Chenoweth’s family had all survived, but the 
unflagging zeal of Katharine Van Straalen had 
finally brought on a fever, and it seemed hardly 
possible that she could survive. No one would 
have recognized the hollow faces in this home, so 
changed were they by want and suffering. Every 
day Dr. Chenoweth went to the round tower in the 
centre of the city to look out over the country and 
to note if the sea was coming to bring them deliv- 
erance. ' 

The waters rose but slowly. The taunting cries 
of the Spaniards reached the ears of the citizens. 

Where is your Prince? Where are the waters 
which are going to cover the dry land? If the 
Prince promised to pluck the stars from heaven or 
to stay the march of the sun and moon, you poor 
fools would believe it.” 

The discouraged watchers in the tower of Hen- 
gist began to lose faith in both God and man. 

Oh! ” cried Madam Chenoweth, ‘‘ for one hour 
of the east wind which flooded Friesland and swept 
so many homes from the face of the earth! ” 

Old Lysken, who had been a tower of strength 
in this little household, at last succumbed to dis- 


ease. 


262 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


Do not weep for me! ” she said to her beloved 
mistress. “ Old Lysken is too feeble to smooth 
her lady’s hair or to make the frocks for the child. 
She is worn out. There will be one less mouth to 
feed, one less to drain your scanty hoard. I shall 
soon be in that city where the inhabitant shall never 
say ' I am sick,’ or ‘ I am hungry.’ You should re- 
joice and not weep! ” 

And little Elizabeth! The rounded cheeks grew 
painfully hollow, the blue eyes were sunken, and 
one morning she could not be awakened to the 
dreary noises of earth. This pure white lily had 
floated to the sands of the eternal shore. 

The watchman in the tower brought the news 
that the fleet had reached the Land Scheiding, a 
dyke within five miles of Leyden, but at this point 
its progress was arrested. 

The famished crowd who waited for tidings gave 
a cry of execration at this announcement. Then 
they went to the house of the Burgomaster, Adrian 
Van der Werf, and demanded that he should sur- 
render. 

The Burgomaster came to the door in response 
to this appeal. He was a gaunt, wasted man, but 
there was a look of dauntless courage in his eyes. 

“ Friends,” he said, “ my life is at your disposal. 
Take my sword, plunge it into my body, and di- 
vide my flesh among you. I can die but once, and 
whether by your hand or by God’s hand I care not. 


SHUT IN 


263 


Your threats move me not. Starvation is better 
than a dishonorable capitulation. I shall not sur- 
render! ” 

These heroic words calmed the starving wretches, 
who again renewed their pledges of fealty, and then 
dispersed. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


THE PRINCE TO THE RESCUE. 

On board the flotilla, manned by Admiral Boisot 
and eight hundred bold Zealanders, who neither 
gave nor received quarter, the sailors watched with 
eager interest the condition of the clouds and the 
waves. 

It was now a week since the great dyke had been 
pierced, and the rise of the waters was stayed. The 
flotilla remained motionless, having accomplished 
but two out of the fifteen miles which separated 
it from the starving city. The wind remained east- 
erly, which was unfavorable. The waters fell to 
a depth of nine inches, and it required eighteen or 
twenty inches to float the vessels. 

A gale arose, however, and for three days and 
nights the wind blew from the northwest. The 
waters rose rapidly, and the vessels passed all the 
barriers until they reached North Aa, where they 
were stopped by the dyke called the Kirk-way. The 
gale had now subsided, and the wind once more 
changed to easterly. 

The sailors were frantic at their enforced idleness. 

264 


THE PRINCE TO THE RESCUE 265 


The pitiful messages which the carrier pigeons 
brought them made them utter wanton curses. 
Leyden was sublime in her despair. She had re- 
solved to die rather than surrender to the Span- 
iard. 

The Prince of Orange, but just on his feet from 
a severe illness and hardly convalescent, insisted 
on accompanying Admiral Boisot to the succor of 
the beleaguered city. His physicians implored him 
to stay away from that plague-stricken spot, but 
the noble Prince replied, “ I am in the hands of 
God. If He has ordained me to perish, be it so! 
My duty is with my sufifering people.” He rebuked 
the sailors for their profanity, and inspired fresh 
confidence by his mere presence. 

Admiral Boisot and the Prince paced the deck. 

If the spring-tide now to be expected should 
not come immediately, and with it a strong and 
favorable wind, this expedition will shortly have to 
be abandoned,” said the Admiral. 

I have seen many hours as dark as this,” re- 
plied William, but I have never lost my faith in 
the sovereign goodness of God. If Leyden falls, 
all is lost. Victory for Spain means a victory for 
Rome. It means the triumph of the Inquisition 
and of prieslly tyranny. Victory for the Nether- 
lands means liberty of conscience, an unchained 
Bible, free thought. It has seemed to many as 
though God was deaf to the cries of His children, 


266 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


— that He holds aloof from the petty affairs of 
earth. But I still believe that He ruleth in the 
heavens, and that He will give to every man and to 
every nation according to their works.’^ 

As if to ratify this sublime faith, that very night 
a violent equinoctial storm blew from the south- 
west. The waters of the North Sea piled up against 
the coast of Holland, and the sea rode triumphantly 
over the ruined dykes. On swept the fleet, borne 
aloft on the great waves. 

The Spaniards, seeing that the ocean now fa- 
vored these sturdy Dutchmen, fled precipitately 
from their forts in the night, and in the morning a 
death-like stillness prevailed where the Admiral 
had expected a salvo of artillery. 

The silence was sickening. Both the Prince and 
Boisot suspected treachery, and the fleet was an- 
chored at a respectful distance from the frowning 
fortress. The watchman at length espied a solitary 
boy, who had climbed to the summit of the fort, 
and leaning over the narrow parapet waved his cap 
and cheered. 

In an instant the Prince grasped the situation. 

“ Admiral Boisot,’’ he said impressively, “ last 
night you doubted the goodness of God. The 
Spaniards far outnumbered us, and perhaps would 
have ruined this enterprise had they been per- 
mitted. But God, who holds the sea in his hand 
and who sends the tempest and the mighty wind, 



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“my children, kneel not to me.’’ Page 267 



THE PRINCE TO THE RESCUE 267 


sent terror into the craven hearts of our enemies. 
The Spaniards have fled! The fort is deserted! 
Leyden is saved! ” 

With a mighty cheer the flotilla was borne to 
the very gates of the starving city. The quays were 
lined with famished men, women and children. 
Loaves of bread were flung from the vessels into 
the midst of the crowd. The Prince and the Ad- 
miral stepped ashore, and the great throng of 
gaunt, wasted creatures, with tears and with pray- 
ers of thanksgiving, knelt in the streets before their 
noble deliverer. 

The tears rolled down William's cheeks as he 
saw how these brave citizens had suffered. Then 
he said with love and tenderness: 

“ My children, kneel not to me, but to the 
heavenly Prince who has enabled you to endure to 
the end. Let us return thanks to God." 

A solemn procession was formed, and all that 
famished throng who were able to walk, together 
with the Prince, the Admiral, and the fierce Zeal- 
and sailors, repaired to the church, where the 
Prince gave thanks to God for this signal proof of 
his love and goodness. Then a hymn was raised, 
but only a line had been sung in weak, trembling 
voices, when the great congregation gave way to 
tears, but they were tears of joy. 

Then loaves of bread were distributed — bread, 


268 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


the staff of life — the manna in the wilderness — 
God’s unfailing gift to men, bread in abundance! 

Dr. Chenoweth was the only one able to leave 
his home and represent his household at this im- 
pressive service. He quickly returned, bearing the 
precious loaves of bread, and better yet, he was ac- 
companied by his son and Reynold Van Straalen. 

Conrad took his beloved wife in his arms, but 
not a word did either of them speak. There is a 
kind of joy which expresses itself either by an elo- 
quent silence or by tears. 

“ Where is Katharine? ” asked Colonel Van 
Straalen. 

Dr. Chenoweth led the way into the chamber 
where the young wife still lay battling for life. The 
fever flush had faded from her cheek, but her pulse 
was failing, and she had lain for hours in a stupor. 

Speak to her! ” said Dr. Chenoweth, as the 
anguished husband .knelt by the bedside, and with 
rigid, stony face gazed at the sick girl. 

Katharine! My love! ” he cried, in tones pierc- 
ing and tremulous with agony. 

The sound of that voice roused the sleeper. She 
uttered a deep sigh, and the blue-veined eyelids 
quivered for an instant. 

''Katharine! Speak to me!” The large, wistful 
eyes opened. 

"Reynold!” she whispered, with a look full of 


THE PRINCE TO THE RESCUE 269 


content. Then her eyes closed again, but this time 
it was to fall into a natural slumber. 

Thank God, she is saved!” said Dr. Cheno- 
weth. 

For hours Katharine slept, rousing at intervals, 
when a strong stimulant was administered. When 
she finally awoke from this refreshing slumber she 
found her husband still by her side. 

My precious wife,” said Colonel Van Straalen, 
'' God has spared us to each other. We shall yet 
thank him and serve him together.” 

Prince William remained a few days in Leyden, 
stimulating and encouraging the people. 

We have had the honor,” he said, of doing 
what no nation ever did before us: we have defended 
and maintained ourselves, unaided, in so small a 
country, against the tremendous efforts of such 
powerful enemies. So long as the poor inhabitants 
of Holland, though deserted by all the world, hold 
firm, it will cost the Spaniards the half of Spain in 
money and men before they can make an end of 
us.” 

To this heroic and loyal city the Prince offered 
as a reward for their fidelity the choice of two 
things: perpetual exemption from taxation, or the 
founding of a university, which should be known 
as the University of Leyden. 

To their lasting credit, be it said that the Dutch 


270 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


citizens of Leyden chose the latter gift; and as soon 
as they had recovered their health, and to some de- 
gree their former prosperity, a gala day, garnished 
by stately processions, martial music and ornate 
speeches, inaugurated the founding of this historic 
seat of learning. 

Holland, Zealand and Friesland were now united, 
and an assembly of delegates, meeting in Novem- 
ber, 1574, implored William to assume absolute 
control of these estates, under whatever title he 
pleased — either governor, king or emperor. 

The Prince of Orange accepted this honor, al- 
though he resolutely put aside the diadem which 
the Congress of Delft offered him. It was enough 
for him to be recognized as the Father of his 
country. The title, “ Father William,’' by which 
he was universally known, pleased him best. He 
cared nothing for mere titles of honor. He was ab- 
sorbed in the greater question as to how best he 
might uplift his nation. 

'Upon only one question did the Prince issue per- 
emptory commands. He insisted that there should 
be no persecution of the Roman Catholics in those 
provinces under his control. “ My purpose,” he 
said, '' is to strangle the Spanish Inquisition, not 
to institute a Protestant Inquisition for the sup- 
pressing of those who differ from us in matters of 
conscience. I will never meddle with a man’s re- 
ligious thoughts. They are between himself and 
his God.” 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


THE DEATH OF THE SILENT PRINCE. 

Ten years passed, and still the war continued. 
But it was conducted in a languid and desultory 
manner, and therei were many intervals of peace. 
The Grand Commander Requesens had been suc- 
ceeded by Don John of Austria, and he by Alex- 
ander of Parma. 

The provinces of Holland and Zealand were 
united in one great hatred and one great hope. 
They determined to regain their ancient privileges 
and to expel the detested foreigners from their soil. 
Brave little Holland was the leader in this enter- 
prise. Think for a moment of that narrow strip 
of sand and half-submerged earth, only one hun- 
dred and twenty miles in length, and from four to 
forty miles in width, and of that one man, with a 
backing of only a few cities, waging war for ten 
years with the most powerful despot of the age! 

In the breathing space now afforded them, the 
people of Holland and Zealand repaired the dykes 
which they had destroyed in self-defence. It was a 

271 


272 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


stupendous task, but the Prince encpuraged the 
people by his presence and his energy. Yearly the 
Prince made a tour of the provinces. His coming 
was heralded by the spontaneous homage of grate- 
ful hearts. William did not appear before his fel- 
low countrymen as a vulgar potentate seeking ad- 
miration. He was like a beloved father visiting his 
children, and happy and honored were those who 
heard his voice or grasped his hand. No one was 
too humble or too ignorant to approach him. His 
gracious words and outstretched hand were for all. 

In 1579 the Union of Utrecht’’ occurred, 
which was the corner-stone of the Netherland Re- 
public. Nine provinces out of the seventeen had 
ranged themselves on the side of the Prince of Or- 
ange, and now they formally banded themselves 
together for mutual protection and support. They 
agreed to defend each other with life, goods and 
blood ” against all force brought to bear upon them 
by the King of Spain. This union placed the Re- 
formed religion on a level with the old. Protes- 
tantism was no longer proscribed. From out of 
subterranean cellars, forests, caves, and secret con- 
venticles, the heretics who had worshipped God 
with fear and trembling came out boldly into the 
light of day, and voiced their devotions in lan- 
guage consonant with their beliefs. 

There had been many attempts on the part of 
Spain to treat with the Prince of Orange, but he 


THE DEATH OF THE SILENT PRINCE 273 

spurned the proffered hand of majesty. “ There 
can be no friendship between the destroyer and the 
protector of a people/’ he said. 

At the instigation of Cardinal Granvelle, whose 
hatred of the Prince of Orange was of ancient date, 
Philip very readily consented to set a price upon 
the head of Orange. ‘‘ It will be well,” he wrote 
Parma, to offer thirty thousand crowns or so to 
any one who will deliver the Prince, dead or alive. 
Thus the country will be rid of a man so per- 
nicious.” Accordingly, the famous Ban was ful- 
minated against the foremost statesman of the age, 
and would-be assassins vied with each other for the 
coveted reward. 

The Silent Prince treated this official document 
with the contempt it deserved. He replied to it in 
his “ Apology,” which was one of the most mem- 
orable documents of history. 

In 1582, at a public festival, in which the Prince 
took an active part, his life was attempted. A 
young man approached him and handed him a peti- 
tion. As William began to read it, the youth drew 
a pistol and discharged it at the head of Orange. 
The ball passed into his neck, and entering the 
mouth came out under the left jawbone. For four 
weeks the condition of the Prince was critical, but 
he recovered. 

When William was restored to consciousness, 
his first words were, “ Do not kill him! I forgive 


274 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


him my death!” referring to his murderer. But 
these words of mercy came too late. The military 
guard had fallen upon the criminal on the spot, and 
immediately despatched him. 

In the pockets of the murderer were found a 
Jesuit catechism, a prayer-book, an Agnus Dei, a 
crucifix, and tablets covered with prayers addressed 
to the Virgin, the Saviour, and the Saviour’s Son (!) 
imploring their combined aid in bringing this 
murderous deed to a safe and sure accomplishment. 
This poor fanatic had furthermore offered to 
bribe the heavenly host, from Christ down to the 
Virgin Mary, if they would mercifully preserve his 
life. To the Saviour he promised a coat of costly 
pattern,” to the Virgin at Guadalupe “ a new 
gown.” To the Mother of God ” at Montserrat 
“ a crown, a gown and a lamp,” and so on through- 
out the heavenly household. 

And what of our friends, the Chenoweths and 
Van Straalens? After the siege of Leyden, Dr. 
Chenoweth received a letter from a former patient 
who had emigrated to South Africa some years 
previously. In this letter, Heer Ogier described 
the fertility of the coast country, the salubrious cli- 
mate and the tropical vegetation, and he urged the 
doctor to come out there with his family, as the 
conditions for a permanent and prosperous settle- 
ment were highly favorable. Already many re- 


THE DEATH OF THE SILENT PRINCE 275 


fugees from France, Germany and the Low Coun- 
tries had gone thither, and the nucleus of a colony 
was already on the ground. 

Dr. Chenoweth laid the matter before his house- 
hold. The male members at once declared em- 
phatically that it would be cowardly to desert their 
native land in her time of need. Madam Chen- 
oweth, in whom the sentiment of patriotism was a 
passion, warmly approved this decision. The 
young wives, Hilvardine and Katharine, were not 
cast in the same heroic mould. They would have 
preferred quiet homes and the joys of domestic 
life. 

‘‘ Why do you object to emigration? ’’ said Hil- 
vardine to her husband when they were alone. 

Surely in times of war an army is often obliged to 
retreat before overw'helming forces. Such a course 
is not only permissible, but honorable.” 

“ But you forget, my dear,” said Conrad, that 
it would be a dastardly act to depart and leave the 
Prince to bear the brunt of the storm. I once told 
you that I was willing to sacrifice everything for 
you, save honor.” 

Hilvardine said no more. In the course of time 
Conrad and his friend Reynold resumed their posi- 
tions in the army of Orange. 

Dr. Chenoweth was too infirm to engage in mili- 
tary duties, and he had built a house in Leyden 
similar to the one he had occupied in Antwerp. 


276 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


The building, from its tiny windows to its brass 
bell and the scraper on the stoep, was scrupulously 
clean and trim, and here, amid joy and pain, the 
bittersweets of life, which are included in that one 
word, home, dwelt our friends. Time had dealt 
gently with them all. Dr. Chenoweth’s hair had 
silvered, and he walked with less vigorous tread; 
but as he sat on his vine-covered porch, beside his 
still comely wife, he was the picture of stately rest 
after labor. 

One afternoon in July, 1584, the family were sur- 
prised by the unexpected appearance of Conrad 
and Reynold. Their faces were grief-stricken, and 
they made no attempt to conceal their profound 
emotion. 

“ What has happened? ” inquired Dr. Cheno- 
weth. 

Conrad could not answer, for tears choked his 
utterance, and Reynold replied, “ William, Prince 
of Orange, has at last been assassinated.’’ 

“Assassinated?” echoed his listeners, with 
blanched faces. 

“Yes,” was the reply. “There have been five 
attempts to murder the Prince within the last two 
years. The sixth attempt was successful.” 

“ Tell us the particulars of this foul deed! ” said 
Dr. Chenoweth, in a broken voice. 

“ A young man came to the house of the Prince 
in Delft, and represented himself as Francis Guion, 


THE DEATH OF THE SILENT PRINCE 275 


a Protestant, and the son of a Calvinist who had 
been martyred for his faith. He desired to serve 
the Prince, and although he possessed a villainous 
countenance the Prince, always loath to believe a 
man to be other than he claimed to be, took him 
into his household. On the tenth of July, as the 
Prince was coming up the stairs to his chamber, 
having just dined, a man suddenly appeared on the 
stairs within a few feet of him and discharged a pis- 
tol at William’s heart. Three poisoned balls en- 
tered his body, and the Prince, feeling that death 
was near, exclaimed, ^ O God, have mercy upon 
my soul! Have mercy on this poor people! ’ These 
were the only words he spoke. In a few moments 
he breathed his last in the arms of his wife. His 
murderer was in reality Balthazar Gerard, a fanati- 
cal Catholic, who believed it to be his mission to 
rid the world of that ' foul heretic,’ William of Or- 
ange. He confided his diabolical scheme to the 
Regent of the Jesuit College at Treves, whose 
name history has not preserved. That dignitary 
gave Gerard his blessing, and told him that if he 
performed his mission he should be enrolled with 
the martyrs.” 

“ And what became of Gerard? Was he allowed 
to escape? ” 

“ No. He was speedily captured, and was lit- 
erally torn in pieces. This cruel execution was an 


278 


THE SILENT PRINCE 


insult to the memory of the noble man whose death 
the Netherlanders sought to avenge.” 

After tea the reunited household gathered on 
the piazza. The air was spicy and fragrant with 
the perfume of a thousand blossoms. The sun was 
fast nearing the horizon, a red disk in an amber 
sky. 

Conrad had just been speaking of the grief of the 
people at the death of their beloved leader, and say- 
ing that in Delft, when the calamity became known, 
the little children cried in the streets. 

What was the secret of our Prince’s great- 
ness? ” inquired Katharine Van Straalen. 

Different opinions were expressed, extolling his 
love of freedom, his spirit of self-abnegation, his 
charity for the opinions of others, and his faith in 
God. 

I think these qualities can all be summed up in 
one sentence,” said Madam Chenoweth. I can 
express myself no better than by appropriating the 
strong Saxon phrase of the ancient apostle. The 
quality which the Silent Prince possessed, and 
which was the foundation of all his eminent virtues 
was, ‘ the grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ.’ ” 

The people of Holland have lost their Father,” 
said Conrad, and the human race a devoted cham- 
pion of liberty. God be praised that our fallen 


THE DEATH OF THE SILENT PRINCE 279 


leader lived to see the dawn of freedom, and the 
day-star of joy and peace arise upon the nation.” 

‘‘ Yes,” replied Dr. Chenoweth, “ there is no 
assassin strong enough, and no weapon deadly 
enough, to quench the inextinguishable spark of 
liberty in the human breast. The friends of liberty 
die, but liberty itself, a fruit of the Gospel, is im- 
mortal.” 


THE END. 


ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK. 



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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 


The author begs to acknowledge the following 
sources of information or suggestion: 

The Rise of the Dutch Republic.” Motley. 

'' In Troubled Times.” 

The Liberation of Holland.” Charles. 

'' History of Philip H.” Prescott. 

“ History of the Netherlands.” Young. 

'' How They Kept the Faith.” Raymond. 

“ The Exiles.” Dupuy. 

History of the Reformation.” D’Aubigne. 

“ The Key to the Holy House.” Lee. 

“ History of Spain.” Harrison. 




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